


I was a kid in the village, doing alright, then I became a prince overnight

by sircantus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, And I also worldbuild, And then finds Tommy, Antarctic Empire lets GO, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Dadza, Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, In which I rant about the royal family, In which Phil adopts Wilbur and Techno early on, No Angst, Phil is a force to not be reckoned with in this one, We have a lot of fluff here and y'know that's the point, We're here for wholesome feels and nothing else, Wilbur and Technoblade are twins, then goes: y'know what maybe another son wouldn't hurt, we got so much plot coming on and it's great, we love to see it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sircantus/pseuds/sircantus
Summary: (Yes the title is from sofia the first, yes I'm laughing at it, I find it funny-)In which Phil has created the Antarctic Empire from the ground up and takes in Techno and Wilbur along the way, and raises them while also ruling his kingdom. Tommy, sixteen, lives with Tubbo in an orphanage, the two of them running around in the cold streets of their town.After a hectic week of getting separated from Tubbo, getting into a few fights, and ending up in an entirely new town, he comes across Phil, and saves him from an assassination attempt by smashing a plate over someone's head.So then both Techno and Wilbur decide to see who this kid is, and Tommy sure is endearing, in the way that the first time they spy on him, he starts a fight in an alleyway over a bag of cookies.(and then Tommy basically gets kidnapped into the royal family, but like, legally, y’know?)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 1228
Kudos: 5504





	1. The start of it all

**Author's Note:**

> I am SLEEPY and also am having fun, here you go, have plot, im gonna sleep because its one am woo hoo

The start of the Antarctic Empire wasn’t exactly something you could put on a calendar. 

The beginning of it was slow, at first, a small community following Phil, who had stories and rumors swirling around him every moment, from his impossible achievement of defeating the dragon. Then it exploded and grew, turning into houses and towns, to hundreds, thousands of people flocking to the growing kingdom, which then grew into an empire, with their emperor protecting them and ruling over with a kind hand. 

From how the stories go, Phil is one of the many, too many, adventurers who went on the journey to the end, to find the stronghold, and step through the portal, to the beast that lies beyond. 

Unlike the hundreds before him, he succeeded in it all, going through the land, finding the stronghold that sat at the middle of a huge mountain, in the middle of a snowy, frozen biome, and he found the portal that sat deep in the stone, like so many before. 

And like the hundreds before him, he went in. But unlike the others who had failed, he came back. 

And he came back with wings upon his back, with a new unbelievable story, and with an unlocking of magic across the entire realm. 

When he came back, he had somehow opened a closed, locked door, which let in unknown possibilities, and with it, unknown threats. 

Potions and magic was something new, something that brought recovery and healing onto new levels. It made strides and it broke rules, saving so many and making certain illnesses a thing of the past. 

Monsters came at night. New creatures, dangerous and unknown. Kingdoms which used to stand tall, unyielding, they didn’t know how to fight it, and ended up falling into shambles, torn apart by the upbringing of a new era of a new world. 

People became lost, and while things were learned, and defenses were taught, many didn’t have anywhere to go, and didn’t have places to hide away at night. 

Then word broke out that the man who had killed the dragon himself, the man who set free these impossible possibilities into the world, had returned to the stronghold to protect the portal to the End. He had gone to protect the portal from others, to stop any more adventurers from venturing in, for he was determined for him to be the last one, for the cycle to stop. 

And when word of his location broke out, of his goal to protect that mountain, protect the stronghold, in the impossibly cold biome, so no more would have to die like so many did before, people went to him. 

At first, only small groups, setting up camp on the mountain, keeping their distance from Phil himself, but staying nearby, for the stories said that he protected the mountain, and if they stayed on the mountain, then they would be protected as well. 

Then those small groups grew into a small town, joined by others every other week. A small community popped up at the side of the mountain, buildings being made, and roads being put down. They stayed there in Phil’s supposed protection, and stories went out across the land of the beginnings of a new place, where it was safe. 

Cold, and new, but safe, under the watch of the person who slayed the dragon. And with that sort of appeal, it’s no wonder so many went along. 

Then one day, Phil came down from the top of the mountain, from the stronghold itself, to investigate the people who had created a home.

The town had grown, and it was busy and warm, a bustling town with stores and families, houses and music, art and writings, life was apparent wherever you went. 

Phil had walked through the streets with a cape over his wings, and a hood over his head, eyes observing and watching, and a smile on his face as he saw that people had flourished, under his protection. 

Truthfully, he didn’t even know they trusted him with their protection. He hadn’t even known they were there, before word got to him and he became curious. 

He had walked through those streets, he remembers, going up to a small stall at the corner of the street, someone handing out hot chocolate, kids and parents grabbing a cup, people lingering around, sitting in chair, on barrels, talking amongst themself and enjoying the nice environment, and the hot chocolate. 

Phil walked up to the same small stall, lowering his hood, rubbing his hands in the cold, looking to the woman who was giving out the drinks. 

“Hot chocolate?” Phil asked, grinning at the lady, raising his eyebrows. “It’s appropriate for the weather.” 

“It always is. The weather never seems to get warm around here.” She had responded, grabbing a cup for Phil, pouring some out. Glancing up to Phil, she slowed in her movements, taking a small double take, observing his face, his hair and eyes. 

Because stories of Phil had at least gotten some details right, those being of his hair being gold, and his eyes being a bright blue, always described as bright with hope. And the lady could only stare, looking over the cape that hid Phil’s back, staring at his blond hair pulled into a small ponytail. 

Phil didn’t notice, only gazed up and down the street, to the people hanging around, laughing and passing stories. By the time he looked back to her, she was holding the cup in front of her, frozen, eyes wide in disbelief, because his eyes were bright blue, as they always were. 

“Oh, it never gets warm. It’s like this even during the summer.” Phil said, taking the cup from her, giving a grateful nod. “You get used to the cold.” 

“You-” Phil took a sip from his drink, about to turn away, and the lady hit her palms against the table in front of her, leaning forward. 

“What’s under your cape?” She asked, loud enough to catch the attention of some, and people nudged each other, stopped their conversations, pointed to Phil. 

Phil paused, looking back to her, and noticing that the street slowly went quiet, eyes on him. 

“You’re him.” Someone said, and it wasn’t a question, but a hesitant statement. 

Phil smiled nervously, laughing a little and taking another sip from his cup, because now there were a lot of eyes on him, and he hadn’t really expected the awe and amazement that came along with it. 

“I’d thought I would come down.” Phil rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, the street silent, holding their breaths. “See how you all were doing.”

Then everyone was getting up, the place erupting in greetings and voices, loud and vibrant, people shaking Phil’s hand, patting him on the shoulders, keeping their distance and yet standing awfully close. 

Phil was stuck in the middle of a loud crowd, which only grew as the day went on, because the knowledge that Phil was in the town spread like wildfire, and it wasn’t long before everyone was looking for a glimpse of the man who made such a change in the world they knew. 

That was an exhausting day, talking with so many, walking around and being led around by friendly townspeople, and being given gift after gift, to the point where Phil had to stop and figure out how to carry the flowers, the bread, the letters and the drawings, because there was so much, and he only had a small satchel at his hip when he came down from the stronghold. 

And when night fell, no matter how much Phil insisted he was fine, he ended up with a free bed, and his own room in someone’s home, the floor littered with the gifts from the people. 

As Phil sat on the bed, his cape put to the side, wings shifting on his back as he stared at how  _ much _ there was, he could only wonder as to how they adored him so much when he had done so little. 

“We’re your people, you know.” The lady who had given him the room said, an old woman with age in her features, her eyes holding so much. She stood by the doorway, small and worn with her years, but kind, and as her eyes glanced to the wings on Phil’s back, she smiled.

“My-” Phil shook his head, looking away from the gifts on the ground. “W-what?”

“That’s what the town thinks. You protect the mountain, don’t you? The portal.” She shrugs, leaning a hand onto the doorway. 

“I-” Phil thinks of the End, of how empty the place was, how the dragon had flown over his head, roaring so loud that it rang in his ears, and how he ran for cover, gasping and wondering if this was the reason others never came back- “Yes. I do.”

“Then we are a part of it. That’s why we’re here, after all. We think of you as protection.” 

“Oh.” Phil holds his hands to his heart, looking back down at the gifts, at the pile of letters at his feet, the flowers and food, drinks, little pieces of art, all from the people in this small town, his town, apparently. 

“I have a gift for you as well.” She said, walking off as Phil insisted it wasn’t necessary, that really, this room was more than enough-

But she came back anyway with a thin silver crown in her hands, and Phil didn’t say another word as she put it on his head. 

If they were  _ his _ people, then what was he? 

Personally, in Phil’s opinion, that was when the Antarctic Empire really started. With a frail old woman gifting him a simple silver crown, as he sat surrounded by the gifts of his people. 

“Thank you.” Phil said, and she only nodded, looking at Phil with a new sort of respect. 

“You’re young. And you’re full of potential. But you’re a good man.” She said, Phil nodding back. He was only 24, at that time, and he had the achievement of getting past the dragon, of releasing magic into the world, and making a safe place for others to escape to. “I think, it’s about time you start realizing what there is.”

Phil looks to the pile of letters at his feet, and nods. She knows that he understands.

The next day, as Phil walks around with his wings out, a small crown upon his head, someone suggests building a castle at the top of the mountain, where he lives. 

He agrees, and with that agreement, he also agrees to so much more.

\---

The town really grows then, as construction starts up on the castle. More and more people flock to the cold biome, as stories travel around of a new kingdom, ruled by the man who defeated the End. 

Soon, the single town that Phil had visited only a while ago turns into a city, communities and streets built around the base of the mountain, covering the terrain with life and construction. 

Soon, as the building of Phil’s castle is done, tall, strong and full of people loyal to him, the cities have grown in a kingdom, and towns are named, stories are passed, and Phil is declared the ruler of it all. 

He takes it in stride. 

\---

From there, it only continues, borders are placed, and then moved, as the land only continues to grow, all technically his. The entire snowy biome, the centerpoint being the mountain where it started, all is his. 

Systems are set up, and Phil plans, writes, and the realms know the day it is announced, this place is Phil’s, and these people are under his protection. And he  _ will _ keep it safe. 

So years pass, and he only grows, with more respect, more land, more people and power, until one day, he’s sitting in a meeting room, in the halls of his castle, filled with people who respect him and follow him, who tell him of how his kingdom is flourishing. 

\---

Life as a king, though, is lonely, at times. And while Phil had his own family, once, they’ve been long gone before he even started the trip to the End. Before all of this. 

And even with the people loyal to him, listening to his word, the halls of the castle can still be empty at times, with how big it is, and at those moments, Phil walks down silent, grand halls, almost hating how loud his footsteps are compared to the lonely silence. 

And the universe is kind, because as one day, when Phil comes down from the castle, head hidden and wings tucked away, walking through his streets, that’s when he finds them both. 

Two kids, bright and curious, sitting at the corner of the street. One sings a song Phil doesn’t know, the other silently holds out a hat for change, sitting on the ground beside the first kid. 

Their clothes are old and worn out, loose on them, and not nearly enough to keep out the cold properly. They have a peculiar look to them, said look being their pointed ears, and matching light pink hair. 

It’s peculiar, but also not, because with Phil’s rule, he’s seen similar things before, and he can only assume with the release of magic, it also created certain features in people, certain abilities and certain...looks. 

Phil drops a coin into the hat, and is glad to see that there’s already a pile of coins in the hat, but a bit worried as to why they would need to ask for money in the first place.

“Singing for money?” Phil asks, the kid on his feet nodding, swiping his pinkish hair off his face. “What’re you going to use the money for?”

“Food, probably.” The kid answers, and the one sitting on the ground holds the hat close to his chest, looking up at Phil with wary eyes. “Maybe some new shoes, if we have enough.”

Phil nods, slowly, and looks down to the kids feet. The one standing and singing has old, torn up shoes, looking like they’re about to fall apart. The other one doesn’t have shoes at all, barefoot out on the freezing street, and that just makes Phil concerned. 

“Where are your parents?” Phil asks, and he already knows the answer, from the state they’re both in. Wherever they are, they’re not with their kids. 

The first kid shrugs, and Phil notes that the other one is a bit quiet, only giving a stare. “Dunno. It’s just been me and Techno for a long time. We’re twins.” 

“I’m older.” Techno speaks up, hugging the hat full of money to his chest, Wilbur looking down at him with a scrunched up face. 

“No you’re not.”

“I am.” Techno nods, sounding incredibly sure. 

“We’re  _ twins _ , so we were born at the same time-”

“I was probably born first.” 

“You don’t even  _ know- _ ”

Phil huffs at their slight bickering, shaking his head. “My name is Phil. Do you guys have a place to sleep for tonight?” 

They both pause, looking to each other and seeming to talk almost telepathically, before Techno speaks up. “No.” 

Wilbur doesn’t add on, Techno only glancing at him, Wilbur looking with wide eyes, keeping his lips sealed. 

Phil nods, looking down the street, up the mountain to the castle. It looks small from here, the town being far, and Phil had flown down, since the roads being made up were still relatively new. 

“Would you like to come with me? I can give you a home, if you’d like.” 

They both glance at each other again, looking at Phil with a new light in their eyes, and Wilbur grabs Phil by the hand suddenly, as if he’s keeping Phil from running off. Phil doesn’t pull away. 

Techno gets to his feet, and holds onto Wilbur’s hand, holding the hat of money in his other arm. 

“I suppose I’ll take that as a yes?” Phil asks, smiling a bit. 

“Mhm-hm.” Wilbur nods, and Phil nods with him, pulling the two of them along, down the street. They only make it a few steps before Phil stops, looking down at them. 

“What?” Wilbur asks, seeing Phil’s face, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Techno, right?” Phil asks, Techno shoulders tensing up, giving a quick nod. “Can I carry you? Your feet…” 

Phil glances down to Techno’s feet, no shoes to be found to protect him from the freezing street. 

Techno looks like he’s about to disagree, but Wilbur yanks at his hand, turning his head to his twin. “Let him carry you.” Wilbur says quietly, and he nods as if he’s said something more. 

Techno stares at Wilbur with a thoughtful face, but then nods, looking up to Phil again. “Okay.”

So then Phil carries Techno in one arm, and leads Will on with the other, the three of them walking down the street, a few people giving a glance, but with the hood over Phil’s head, not much attention is given. 

Techno holds his arms around Phil’s neck, looking ahead with a stern face, most likely wondering as to where they’re going. Wilbur gives Phil glances as they walk along, and when they get to the end of the town, to the barren road leading up the mountain, workings of construction at the sides, Wilbur only keeps looking at Phil with a confused face. 

When they’re far enough, with hardly anyone around, Phil stops, Wilbur turning his head this way and that way, confused as to why they’ve gone so far from the actual town. 

Phil lets go of Wilbur’s hand, and Wilbur only squeezes on tighter, giving a panicked face. 

“I just need to take off my coat.” Phil says, Techno giving him a perplexed face, while Wilbur takes a moment to let go. 

Phil struggles a bit to remove his coat, pulling down his hood and slipping his arm out of his sleeve, not wanting to put Techno on the ground because now there’s actual snow on the street here, and there’s no way Phil is putting him down without any shoes on. 

“You have wings!” Wilbur yells, as Phil maneuvers Techno onto his other arm, letting his coat fall off his arm onto the ground. He has more coats, he can leave it. 

Techno grabs at Phil’s shirt, tilting his head over Phil’s shoulder and looking with wide eyes at Phil’s back, where his wings open up, stretching out as Will gives another excited scream. 

“You’re-” Techno cuts himself off, looking at Phil’s wings with shock, and that’s the most emotion he’s seen from the kid in the past twenty minutes. 

“You’re the king!” Wilbur says for Techno, taking a step back as he watches Phil’s wings spread out. 

Phil nods, grinning at how they both sound. “Excuse me, uhm-” Phil waves a hand over, leaning down a bit and fumbling because he realizes he never got the other kid’s name. 

“Wilbur.” Techno supplies, and Phil smiles, holding an arm out to Will. 

“Wilbur, come here.”

Wilbur runs over, and Phil picks him up as well, holding him in his other arm. Wilbur wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, looking over his shoulder at his wings in awe, while Techno holds on to Phil’s shirt and Wilbur’s arm, seeming to already know where this is going. 

“Alright. Are either of you afraid of heights?” Phil asks, and it’s a bit of dumb question, but he wants to ask it anyway, just to give them both a heads-up. 

“Heights?” Wilbur repeats, and Techno gives a quick shake of his head, smiling. 

“Nope. Let’s go.” He says, and there’s a gleam in his eyes as he grins, Phil matching his smile.

“Alright. Hold on.” Phil tells them, then spreads out his wings once more, and  _ flies _ . 

Wilbur shrieks when they go up. Techno laughs. 

\---

Phil brings them back to his castle, has a room set up for them, and while the servant in front of him gives a surprised face at seeing the kids in his arms, she still goes off to carry out his request. 

Phil gives them his undivided attention for the rest of the day, has all his meetings pushed back, tells everyone that unless it’s life threatening, then leave him alone, because he’s busy. 

He gets them a bath, gets new clothes made, gets food, gets  _ shoes _ , although, as they walk around in living quarters of the castle, the floors are mostly carpet, so the shoes aren’t as necessary as before. 

But their reactions when he offers them are priceless. 

And he spends the midday sitting on the floor of their new room, as Techno pokes around, and Wilbur asks questions, curious as he watches Techno go around the room. 

“And you’re the king?” Wilbur asks, leaning his palms down onto Phil’s leg, who sits down on the carpet with his legs criss crossed. 

“Yes.”

“And you do have wings, like everyone says.” Wilbur nods a chin to Phil’s wings, which rest on his back, out in the open. 

“Yup.”

“Okay, but where’s your crown?”

“I don’t wear it when I go visit the town. It makes people notice me.”

“Don’t you want to be noticed?” Techno asks, turning around to him and Wilbur, a pillow in his arms. 

“Sometimes I don’t.” Phil shrugs. “The attention can be a lot.”

Techno nods slowly, like he’s been given new wisdom, and Wilbur pats at Phil’s knee again. 

“Can I see your crown?” Wilbur asks, Phil smiling. 

And as night falls, with Phil letting the two of them play with his multiple crowns, things of extreme respect, and meaning, Phil only laughs as they both try them on, Techno choosing to keep a certain one on his head and refusing to take it off. 

Phil doesn’t retreat into his own room that night, and falls asleep with two kids snoring away at his side, royal crowns thrown to the side.

\---

Word travels fast within a few days of the kids in the castle, and rumors swirl and stick. Before long, people assume Phil’s taken in two sons, both of age 7. 

He doesn’t say otherwise, and he only smiles warmly when people refer to the two of them as the little princes. 

The kingdom grows, and with it, so does Techno and Will, Phil watching over them both. And the moments that come along with the year are everything to Phil. 

A week into having Techno and Wilbur in the castle, Phil finally retreats some of his attention from them, and returns to his responsibilities. He puts a babysitter in charge while he goes off to his first meeting of the day, and instructs for the two twins to stay, for he has things to do while being a king. 

He leaves them in the living quarters, with their things, hoping they won’t be too bored while he’s gone. 

Ten minutes into his first meeting, there’s a knock at the door of the room, and the people at the table turn their heads as the guard outside announces that the king’s sons are demanding to be let in. 

“One is threatening me with a sword, your majesty, I just had to let them in.” The guard says with a grin, opening the door with Wilbur running in, Techno walking past with a stern look and a small fake sword in his hand. 

Techno’s taken a liking to that sword, him and Wilbur playing with matching ones, and he never lets it go, just like the crown upon his head. Phil lets him keep it.

Wilbur, on the other hand, also has a crown similar to Techno’s, but he only wears it to match his twin, rather for the liking Techno has taken to his. While Wilbur doesn’t have something he carries around all the time, like Techno and his sword, he does have a habit of holding Techno’s hand and tugging him around.

The two of them barely even pay attention to the people sitting around the meeting table, instead run directly to Phil, who asks what happened to the person watching over them. 

“We locked them in the bathroom.” Wilbur responds, resting his hands on Phil’s leg, smiling like he hasn’t done a thing wrong while Techno goes behind Phil’s chair, sticking a hand into Phil’s wings. 

From that instance on, Phil just let the two of them follow along, and they trailed behind him as he did his duties. It became a common sight for the two of them to be talking amongst themselves behind Phil, or underneath his chair at times, snickering and playing small games as Phil carried out his responsibilities. 

\---

Two weeks into having them in the castle, Phil decides to let them sleep in their room on their own, going back to his own bed just down the hall. 

At first, it’s alright, and Phil actually enjoys being able to sleep without having small feet kicking him in the middle of the night. 

Then, on the third night, the two of them come to Phil’s room, Wilbur poking him awake. Phil raises his head to see Wilbur standing beside his head, holding onto Techno’s hand. 

“Techno had a nightmare.” Wilbur says simply, and Phil’s heart squeezes at Techno’s face, at how he stares at the floor with a frown, his face wet from tears. 

Phil lifts his blanket up, and they both crawl in. 

He holds them both for a while, Wilbur hugging Techno, shoving his face into Techno’s shoulder as Techno stares at Phil’s shirt. 

“My head won’t be quiet.” Techno mumbles, Phil opening his eyes to see Techno’s ears twitch, his face looking unhappy. 

Phil runs a hand through Techno’s hair, reassuring and consistent, and Wilbur only shoves his face more into Techno’s shirt, his arms tightening around him. 

Wilbur hums a song that Phil doesn’t know, and Techno falls asleep to it within minutes. Then Wilbur drifts off as well, and Phil hugs them both close, closing his eyes with them. 

\--- 

Wilbur, at one point, asks if he can figure out how to change his hair color. 

“What color would you want it?” Phil asks, the three of them sitting for dinner, the table is huge, with plenty of food, and even this long in, sometimes the two of them still take a double take at the amount of it. 

“I dunno. Brown?” Wilbur shrugs, stabbing at his food with a fork. 

“We won’t match anymore.” Techno says from beside Will, although their hair already tells them apart. Wilbur had his cut short a while ago, while Techno wanted his to stay long. Phil usually braided it for him, since he has experience with his own long hair. Right now it sat in a short ponytail behind Techno’s head, pulled back neatly with a few stands hanging in front of his face. 

“We’re still twins, though. Looking different won’t change that.” Wilbur pointed out, Techno making a ‘hmmn’ sound before putting food into his mouth. 

“I’m still older.” He says through a mouthful of food, and as Phil tells him to chew before speaking, Wilbur slams a hand onto the table, yelling loudly. 

“We’re TWINS!”

Wilbur gets his hair dyed a week later, dark brown. His face and Techno’s are still similar, though, and while it takes a moment to realize it, you can tell if they’re twins by observing their features. 

\---

Time passes quickly, and Phil doesn’t mind it at all, as his rule grows, so does his sons, and by the time a whole year has passed since he’s brought them home, his kingdom has grown into an empire. 

They celebrate the day with no meetings, just the three of them and some cake. Wilbur declares it their birthday, because they don’t remember the actual day, and Techno agrees with it, Phil smiling and enjoying their prideful faces when he asks how it feels to be eight.

“I feel old.” Techno says with frosting on his face, and as Phil wipes it off with a towel, Wilbur laughs, poking at his cake slice with his fork. 

There’s a knock at the door, swinging open before Phil can even say anything. His face drops into a displeased frown, and both Wilbur and Techno snicker at his serious face being directed towards the guard outside. 

“ _ What _ . I’m trying to celebrate my sons’ birthday.” Phil says, the guard wilting under his stare, shaking their head. 

“I- Your Grace, I-I’m sorry, but-”

Phil freezes as he’s told the news, and Wilbur and Techno look to him with wide eyes. 

War has been declared onto the Antarctic Empire, and attacks are being made. 


	2. Family isn't always entirely blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is 5 am, my kidssss
> 
> (and guess who didn't FUCKING sleep)
> 
> ((ME))

  
  
  


From what Tommy’s been told, from what he’s gotten when he asks, him and Tubbo were born into a time of war. A far off kingdom in over their head, choosing to take on the empire, the ruler apparently simply wanting to challenge the emperor and his subjects for fun. 

The war wasn’t something to scoff at, the Antarctic Empire against an old, large kingdom that’s adapted to the new world, and while most would think that they would’ve been defeated easily to the Empire’s forces, they held up, and they caused as much damage as they could while they did. 

The king of the other kingdom had apparently been convinced that Phil didn’t deserve his power, didn’t deserve his title, and so, for fun, attacked his people and his land. Phil acted accordingly, and fought back, but also tried his best to protect those in his rule. 

The war hit hard, and resources went low. Attacks on stray towns weren’t that uncommon, refugees from other parts of the kingdom became a common sight, people struggled in day to day life as food went scarce, and the defenses weakened bit by bit, every day, as the battle raged on. It seemed as if it would never end, and while the Emperor ordered on his soldiers and reassured his people, everyone could only wonder how far he could protect them until he couldn’t any longer. 

Tommy wouldn’t really know much about that part though, he was young. People lost a lot during that time, and Tommy and Tubbo lost their parents. 

Or their parents lost them, maybe. It doesn’t matter, either way, him and Tubbo showed up at the orphanage within the same time, within the same time of war, two newborns at the doorstep, taken in.

Him and Tubbo were born into war, but they never saw the brunt of it, because as Tommy has been told multiple times, he was born into the start of a war, but grew up in an era of peace. Lucky, according to most. They were part of a lucky generation who only knew of the war through stories.

Tommy was only two when the war came to a peak, and he was only two when an entire town at the edges of the empire was burnt to the ground, no survivors left alive, a clear threat from the other side to either surrender, or they’ll do it again and again until Phil broke. 

Fear spread through the kingdom, and rumors came from the castle, the people talking over how their emperor, giving orders from the castle, was trying to protect his people while also raising his two sons, ten years of age. The rumors said that their emperor was falling apart. 

There were whisperings of how the emperor weeped for hours on end in grief, and as a response, the castle entrance was adorned with piles upon piles of flowers. The front gates were filled with color, the people taking flowers and placing them at the front of the castle, as a show of silent support. 

Flowers are hard to come by in such a cold kingdom, and they don’t grow by themselves. They take work, time, and once they are fully grown, putting them outside isn’t much of an option if you want them to last. 

And yet there were so many, and when Phil looked out at his gates to see the ocean of colors, standing out brightly against the snow, he could only drop to his knees and cry again.

So then his grief turned into anger, into cold determination. 

Tommy was only two years old, a kid being taken care of at the orphanage, when the Emperor joined his soldiers at the battlefield and won a fight. And won another, and yet another, over and over. 

And when his own soldiers couldn’t fight on at his speed, he went on his own, and flew to the other kingdom with a sword in his hand, ready to get peace one way or another. 

It was inhuman, in the way that he didn’t stop, three days of nonstop fighting, Phil was never seen taking a break, only defending, and advancing, and yelling for the other side to leave and never come back.

Tommy was two years old when the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire secured peace by flying to the king on the other side, and with his wings spread high and his sword pointed out, he demanded for the fighting to stop, or else he would burn the castle to the ground like they did to his own people. 

From there, Tommy grew up in a time of peace. 

And he’s never known much more, other than the fact that the emperor was a fucking _badass_.

\---

“ _Dammit-_ Tubbo!” Tommy nearly lets the wooden crate in his hands tip over, the jars in it clinking together as he holds one hand to his chest, wincing at how his finger stings and trying to not let the crate fall over onto the ground. “I’m gonna drop it, oh my god-”

“Hold on!” Tubbo rushes out from the store doorway, hopping down the steps over to Tommy, grabbing the crate and helping Tommy put it down gently, sighing when they both take their hands away from it without anything falling over. 

“What, what happened?” Tubbo asks, glancing over the jars to see if any have cracked before raising his head to Tommy.

“My finger got in between the crates.” Tommy mutters, holding his hand out for Tubbo to look at, and he freezes at seeing red trail down his middle finger, down his palm. “Ooooh, that’s not good.”

Tubbo leans over, pushing his hand away from the crates. “Don’t get it on the jars! I think there’s probably bandaids by the front counter-”

“You care about the jars more than me?!” Tommy yells, holding his hand out away from the crates, making a face at how blood drips down onto the snow below their feet. God, this hurts like a bitch. 

“Well, I mean, we have an hour left to move these, man, and like, if we don’t finish, we don’t get our money-” Tubbo responds, grinning as he walks around the crates, reaching for Tommy’s hand to get a look. 

Tommy waves Tubbo off, going over to the steps into the store to look for the bandaids Tubbo mentioned. 

“No, no, I understand, glass jars are just so much more valuable than your best friend, obviously.” Tommy snarks, the wide smile on his face betraying how he’s trying to sound offended. Tubbo only rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the crates again, heaving one up in his arms, trusting for Tommy to take care of himself.

A pro of being one of the older kids in the orphanage, with a good track record of hiding their more… chaotic, accidents from the caretakers, is that the two of them are trusted with their own safety, are seen as “responsible”, and are allowed out into the town. (On a curfew, unfortunately, but it’s still better than nothing) 

And while they are far from responsible, and, being safe really, they take that freedom with both hands, and use it to the best of their abilities. 

According to the caretakers, Tommy is a bit loud, but a sweet kid. Tubbo’s sorta quiet, and awkward, but he’s polite. 

According to Tommy, he _knows_ that he’s an annoying fucker, and the amount of times he’s thrown snowballs into people’s faces just to piss them off, god, he’s lost count. Tubbo’s polite, sure, that part is somewhat true, and yet also not, because Tommy will never forget the time that he had to drag the teen by the shirt to try and get him to stop yelling about the rarity and beauty of bees to some person who apparently hated bugs. That was a fun night. He had thrown _two_ snowballs at someone’s face that night. 

Going around causing trouble isn’t a usual goal for them when they’re allowed out in the town though, (not usually, at least) and in order to spend their time, they go to the main plaza of the town, where there’s stalls and tables, places to try food and sit by warm fires. 

However, in order to have any actual fun, you need to have money to buy actual things. So most of their time outside consists of taking up any random jobs that anyone will give them. 

Either it’s sweeping a set of stairs, shoveling snow, or helping with restocking, both their faces are familiar around the main shops of the town, and the shop owners at this point know they can depend on them to finish up any tedious work, and in return, they’ll get paid, either through some food, trinkets, or actual money.

For today, he and Tubbo were able to get out almost right after breakfast at the orphanage, (In Tommy's opinion, that food tasted like cardboard), and they spent their morning running down the street and looking for any small jobs. 

They found them easily enough, and as of right now, they’re working on moving heavy wooden crates full of glass jars holding different types of jams. It’s annoying having to go out into the cold alleyway, pick the crate up, try not to trip on the few steps up to the doorway, and move through the small store to put the items in the backroom, but it’s worth it if it means the reward will let them have a nice day at the plaza. 

Tommy has no idea why the shop owner decided to trust them with _fragile_ crates, of all things, but he isn’t complaining, as long as they get some money. 

He walks through the small store with a whistling tune coming from his mouth, going around behind the counter and looking through the drawers, trying to keep his hand from dripping blood everywhere. It’s not like he’s bleeding out, and it’ll lessen eventually, but it still stings and he’d rather have it patched up instead of leaving faint bloodstains on the crates. 

“Tubbo, where did you say were the bandaids, again?” Tommy asks, as Tubbo walks in with a crate held carefully in his arms, his chin placed on top of the crate as slowly walks over to the backroom.

“Uh, I dunno. Somewhere around there.” Tubbo responds, giving as best of a shrug as he can with his arms full. 

“Very helpful, Tubbo.” Tommy deadpans, Tubbo only laughing as he goes to put the crate away. 

Tommy looks through three different drawers, finding only papers, pencils, and a stray pair of glasses before seeing a few bandaids scattered at the bottom of the last drawer. 

He grabs it, closing the drawer and pushing himself on top of the counter, swinging his legs lightly as he tries to rip the adhesive off. It’s nearly impossible, though, because he’s only using one hand, and he really doesn’t want to touch anything with his other one, because there’s blood all over it from him closing it into a fist to try and keep it from dripping. 

It’s so bad, and it looks so much worse than it actually is, which would be amusing if Tommy wasn’t fighting to get this damn bandaid to work with him-

Tubbo comes out from the backroom, glancing to the openside door leading out to the alleyway, before making a beeline to Tommy around the counter. He swipes the bandaid out of Tommy’s hand, standing to the side so Tommy won’t kick him with his restless legs.

“Hey! I was trying to use that.” Tommy protests, Tubbo only giving a vague noise of agreement, pulling the bandaid open and holding a palm out with a smile. Tommy gives him an unimpressed face with as much distaste as he can muster, but he still lets Tubbo look over his finger, wrapping it as well as he can with it being all gross. 

“Aw, ew, your hand is all bloody.” Tubbo wrinkles his nose at the sight, wiping his fingertips on his pants. 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up or else I’ll wipe my hand on your shirt.” The cut doesn’t hurt that much anymore, it still stings as Tubbo looks it over, but now it’s just annoying more than anything, and it looks overly dramatic, with the smeared blood.

The front door opens with a ding of a bell, and the shop owner comes in, a polite kinda guy who always has a hood over his ears to keep out the cold of the usual weather. Last he said, he went to run errands while him and Tubbo were in charge, and he’s back earlier than Tommy expected.

“Alright, kids, how are the crates going?” Bad asks, seeing Tommy sitting on the counter and Tubbo standing beside him. He notices Tommy holding his hand up in the air in front of him, and how it looks like he’s been stabbed or something. “Oh my goodness, your hand!” 

Bad rushes over, Tubbo taking a step back as Tommy’s hand is grabbed, Tommy frowning.

“Tommy squished one of his fingers in between some crates.” Tubbo informs, clasping his hands together in front of him. 

“Then why is there so much blood?!” Bad questions, turning to Tubbo behind him as Tommy yanks his hand away. Tubbo shrugs.

Bad walks past Tubbo to grab a towel, going out to the alleyway and grabbing some snow from the ground, putting just a bit in the cloth, then walking back in and giving it to Tommy, who uses it to wipe his hand off. 

“It’s not my fault the jars are so fuckin heavy.” Tommy mutters, rubbing at his palm until it’s clean, holding the towel out again. Bad takes it without complaint. 

“Language.” Bad says lightly, taking a step back and sighing, a dirty towel in his hands. “Okay, I think that’s enough work for you two.”

“What?! No, we can finish!” Tubbo protests, moving in front of Bad with a frown. 

“I can carry in the rest of them, don’t worry about it, here-” Bad takes a step back, looking through some drawers to the side, the wood creaking as he searches. He opens a second drawer and hums, grabbing a small pouch of coins and putting it in Tubbo’s hands. Tommy hops off the counter as Tubbo shakes the small bag in his grasp, curious at the amount inside.

“That’s your reward for today. Now, shoo! I’m about to open, you guys go play in the snow or something, you’ve worked enough for today.” Bad says, and pushes them gently towards the front door, the two of them not complaining, more intrigued in what they’ve been given. 

Tommy leans over Tubbos shoulder as they both make their way towards the door, and Tubbo opens the pouch in his hands to find a small pile of silver coins. 

“Not bad for carrying those crates.” Tubbo says, and Tommy pushes the door open for them both, the two of them walking outside into the street, a stark contrast from the warmth of inside. 

The stone street is as cold as it always is, a few people walking past, dressed in warm layers as they go down the road of lit-up stores with roofs covered in white. The snow falls lightly from the sky, a normal occurrence living here, and Tommy and Tubbo walk down their usual path, already knowing this road and their stores like the back of their hand. The plaza is only a ten minute walk away, and Tommy rubs his hands together for warmth as Tubbo counts the coins in his hands.

“This is actually pretty good.” Tubbo tells him, Tommy humming as Tubbos closes the pouch up again, storing it away in his pocket. “Any plan on what to do today?”

“I’m thinking,” Tommy stares up at the sky, huffing at how the white falls into his hair. He’s used to the cold, he’s grown up in it all his life, but it never fails to be slightly annoying when his ears freeze up and go red. “...maybe try buying those new cookies they were selling at the bakery yesterday.”

“New cookies?” Tubbo asks, Tommy nodding as the two of them step over a ledge in the path, an uneven part that no one’s figured out to fix. They’ve both tripped over it more than once, and Tommy personally hates the terrain with a passion. 

“Yeah, there were some in the display window, I saw it yesterday while we walked past, I really wanted some.” They had looked good, Tommy remembers, little square shaped cookies with a pretty design on it. They had looked like vanilla, maybe. 

“Why didn’t you point it out?” Tubbo frowns, Tommy scoffing at his disappointed tone. “We could’ve bought some then.”

“I saw them when we were _out_ of money.” 

“Oh. Well, then, we got money now.” Tubbo grins, and Tommy grins along with him. 

\---

Tommy’s sitting at one of the public tables of the plaza, underneath the small roof that protects it from the snow, with a community fireplace right beside him. The warmth from the fire lets him take off his old coat, his long sleeved shirt wrinkled slightly as he keeps his coat resting over his legs. 

He leans onto the table in front of him, picking at the bandaid on his hand as he waits for Tubbo to return with treats, the teen having insisted on going to the bakery on his own while Tommy goes to find a place to sit.

The plaza is only a bit busy today, people mingling and chatting around the stalls and shops.

The place itself is build like a giant circle, the outer section of the plaza being made up of stores, purely of sweets and things to enjoy, stalls for selling fun trinkets and food. The inner section of the plaza is more of tables and seats, fireplaces and areas for people to sit and gather around, enjoy what they’ve bought and enjoy each other’s company. 

At the center of the plaza itself, there’s a small stone statue of the Emperor, standing upon a pedestal, hands resting on a sword, head tilted down with closed eyes. His crown is small on his head, and his wings are carved in a way that shows off each feather.

Flowers are placed at the feet of the statue, and while some are frozen and wilting, there are always a least a few new ones sitting there, bright and vibrant in their color. Tommy personally thinks the statue is really cool, and it’s a nice thing to have, to give Tommy an idea of what the ruler even looks like. 

While the emperor does come down from the castle to check on his people, he doesn’t do it too often, and the town Tommy lives in doesn’t get frequent visits. 

Tommy finds himself staring at the statue with curiosity, looking over the peaceful expression on Phil’s face, and not noticing Tubbo running up until he’s slammed down a bag of cookies onto the table. 

“ _Motherfuck-_ ” Tommy jumps, holding a hand to his chest. “Did you break the cookies or something? Why did you slam them?!” He yells, Tubbo shrugging with a small pink box in his hands as he sits down across Tommy, putting the box down. 

“I dunno.” Tubbo smiles, Tommy making a face at the response. Tubbo moves on as Tommy reaches for the bag. “The bakery lady was really nice while I talked to her. We had a nice conversation.”

“Is that why you took so long to buy the stuff?” Tommy asks, pulling open the back of cookies, pulling one out and taking a bite of it. It’s good, and he didn’t expect any less. 

“Yeah, her name is Niki, and she also has a brother named Ranboo, I think? And he’s kinda weird, he wears a mask and his skin is kinda funny-”

“Well that’s just rude, Tubbo.” Tommy says, holding a hand over his mouth, his words slightly muffled as he chews.

“Hey, I’m just saying what I saw.” Tubbo holds his hands up, shaking his head. “But she gave me a discount, and I got this.” He pats a hand onto the small box in front of him, Tommy raising his eyebrows.

“What is it?” Tommy asks, eating another cookie as Tubbo lifts the lid up. 

It’s a small white cake, a smiley face in frosting drawn on the top. There’s blue frosting on the borders, and Tommy wonders what’s the occasion. 

“Happy birthday!” Tubbo cheers, pulling the cake out of the box, sliding it in between them both as Tommy gives a confused look. Their birthday isn’t for another two weeks, this is a bit early. 

At the orphanage, your birthday is really just the day you showed up there. Him and Tubbo showed up as babies only a day apart, so they’ve celebrated theirs together every year without fail. 

“A bit off on the date, Tubbo.” Tommy says as he finishes off his cookie. 

“Yeah, I know.” Tubbo shrugs, pulling out two forks, handing one over to Tommy. “But it was on a discount, and there’s no harm in extra cake.” 

Tommy takes the fork from Tubbo, huffing in amusement and pushing the bag of cookies to the side, poking his fork into the frosting. “Happy birthday.” Only two weeks left, then he'll be 16, a grand ole number. 

“Mhm-hm.” Tubbo hums, and then stabs his side of the cake with a snicker.

“Oh, god, you’ve just killed it, Tubbo-!”

“Ohhhh, there’s frosting on the table-”

\---

Later on, that night, when they return to the orphanage, to their shared room, they share the rest of the cookies while sitting on their own beds, across the small room from each other. 

They’re wearing their old, worn out clothes as pajamas, refusing to get up in any way, the floor being too cold to walk barefoot around the room. Tubbo fiddles with the end of his blanket as they talk about earlier in the plaza, with the experience at the bakery.

“No, her name was Niki, I’m sure,” Tubbo starts, catching a cookie from Tommy, who chucks cookies at him periodically, since he has the bag in his hands. “She was just really friendly, you know?”

“What, you think you’re gonna be able to get a job there or something?” Tommy asks, breaking a cookie apart in his hands. 

“Well, not exactly…” Tubbo leans his chin on his hand, trailing off for a moment, before continuing. “She asked about the orphanage.”

Tommy pauses, halfway through bringing the cookie to his mouth. 

“...What?” 

“Yeah, she asked about my family, and I said I didn’t have one, other than you, of course. But then she asked about where the orphanage was, and how to get there, and stuff.”

Tommy brushes off the warmth in his heart at Tubbo easily referring to him as family and clears his throat, waving a hand. “So either she’s overly curious, or…”

“She could be planning on visiting…?” Tubbo shrugs, making an unsure face. Tommy knows for a fact that Tubbo has a charm to him. And if he’s found someone he clicks with, someone he trusts like Tommy, there’s no doubt it’ll end with something good. 

“Good on you if she does man, who knows, maybe she’ll take you in.” Tommy shrugs, shoving another cookie into his mouth so he doesn’t have to talk anymore. 

“Well, if she does, she has to take you too.” Tubbo insists, leaning forward on his bed. “I’m not gonna leave you behind.”

Tommy waves a hand, chewing and talking with his mouth half full. “That doesn’t matter, Tubbo. Even if we end up living in different homes, that’s not going to stop us from being together.”

Tubbo still frowns though, looking at Tommy with a conflicted face. 

Swallowing down his cookie, Tommy goes on. “I’m just saying. _If_ she does come over for you, and _if_ she does offer a home, I don’t want you to say no just because you want to stay with me. A family is good.” 

Tubbo smiles warmly at his words, but he also rolls his eyes and scoffs, laying down on his bed. “You’re my family.” He turns his head to Tommy. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” Tommy mutters, and puts the bag of cookies to the side, three left in the bag. “You’re mine too.”

Tubbo laughs at his awkward tone, and Tommy chucks his pillow across the room, ignoring the way Tubbo only continues to laugh as he asks for Tubbo to throw his pillow back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna say it here, but I've been making a bunch of sbi fics, just, y'know, fun ideas and worlds I like to make, and for like the first time ever I CANT FUCKING RESPOND TO ALL THE COMMENTS
> 
> There's so MANY, like, HOW IS THERE SO MANY PEOPLE READING THESE??!! WTF
> 
> (Then again, I'm used to writing fic for a dead fandom, so I'm not used to, well, an actual alive fandom)
> 
> But uh, thanks, I would usually respond to every single comment, like I always do, but there's like 100 unread in my inbox and I....do not have enough energy to even attempt that so-
> 
> Thanks for readin! I'm gonna go do homework now.


	3. Give him his moment

  
  


The days of the following week are what Tommy would call ‘the beginning of a fucking rollarcoaster’.

Monday morning, Tommy wakes up to getting hit in the face with a pillow, Tubbo cackling as Tommy literally rolls out of bed as he tries to hit back and defend himself, getting tangled in his blanket and hitting the floor. 

The next ten minutes consist of brutal fighting, and it ends with Tubbo shrieking for a time-out, stumbling out of their shared room as Tommy launches a pillow out into the hallway. 

They end up late to breakfast, and they also get a light scolding from the caretakers, who would’ve maybe given more of a lecture to them both if it weren’t for the fact that two other kids had started a food fight in the corner.

The joys of having 6-year olds in the vicinity. 

Eating food at the speed of light and tugging on their coats and boots, both Tommy and Tubbo are outside in record time, halfway down the street with Tommy still cussing Tubbo out for the rude morning. 

“It was funny-” Tubbo slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to choke down a laugh, turning his head the other direction as Tommy hits him in the arm, the two of them walking down the street. 

Snow falls lightly, as it usually does. People sweep snow off the street to the side, a usual routine that always goes on in the cold mornings. Both him and Tubbo have done it plenty of times for a few coins, and Tommy will be honest, sweeping the snow to the side is the most tedious job that they could ever get their hands on. But it’s always there. 

“It was not funny,” Tommy scoffs, Tubbo trying to nod with a serious, agreeing face, before breaking into another stifled laugh. Tommy resists the urge to scoop snow off the ground and put it into the back of Tubbo’s shirt. “I thought I was getting fucking  _ murdered _ , oh, I think I have a bruise-”

“No you don’t!” Tubbo nudges a hand at Tommy’s side a few times, like he’s actually checking for injuries. Tommy waves him off, leaning to the side, turning his walk into a dramatic limp as Tubbo makes a face. 

“I do! I do! I am a victim, here-” 

“Oh, quit it.” Tubbo snorts, Tommy cackling as he gets shoved to the side, stumbling for a bit before standing up straight, walking beside Tubbo again. 

Tommy pauses as he hears Tubbo’s name getting called behind them. Tubbo stops too, the two of them giving a concerned glance before turning around, seeing a caretaker from the orphanage running after them, saying that Tubbo needs to come back, just real quick-

\---

Tommy stands outside in the street as Tubbo goes into the orphanage, which is loud and lively at this time of the morning, with most of the kids fully awake and running around. 

The front door is left wide open for a moment, and Tommy sees a vaguely familiar woman standing inside, holding a pink box in her hands. Her hair is put up in a loose bun, and her coat looks like it’s too big, like she’s borrowing it from someone who’s much bigger. 

He gets a glimpse of Tubbo getting pushed towards her, the caretakers all polite and smiles, and Tommy hates how for a moment, it’s so fake, so artificial, just the necessity of being nice for the sake of it. 

But then she smiles at Tubbo and holds the box in one arm, and holds out a hand to Tubbo with the other, and her smile is warm, and when she shakes Tubbo’s hand, he laughs at something she says. 

The front door ends up getting closed, leaving Tommy out in the street, having to sit on the curb, huffing at the fact that he can’t go inside. 

He can, there’s nothing stopping him from going inside the building, actually, there’s nothing stopping him from walking into the orphanage and taking his usual spot at Tubbo’s side while he talks with a woman who’s here specifically for Tubbo. 

But he sees how kind her eyes are towards Tubbo specifically, and he sees how she shifts her weight from foot to foot nervously, smiling in a way that tells that she just wants to make a good first impression. 

From Tommy’s first impression, from how Tubbo had gone to awkward and uncomfortable to laughing and grinning, she’s a good person. And so Tommy is going to let Tubbo have his moment, and sit out here in the fucking cold while the prick stays inside having a delightful chat surrounded by a bunch of hyperactive screaming orphans. 

Tommy passes the time watching the snow fall onto his legs, and he brushes the white off, looking at his beat up shoes and the slight tear at the end of his pants. He needs to think about buying new shoes, but instead his mind wanders to getting Tubbo a gift for their birthday. 

A thought passes through his mind, lighting quick, and Tommy would almost be annoyed with how fast his heart latches onto it, if it weren’t just such a nice idea. 

A birthday gift that Tubbo deserves? A family. 

Tommy is family, he knows that much, him and Tubbo have something that can never be overshadowed, or replaced. But just the two of them, it’s not enough. Tubbo deserves so much more. 

Clasping his cold hands together and holding them his heart, Tommy silently hopes for the interaction to go well, silently hopes that this week will end in Tubbo having an entirely new home. Because wouldn’t that be one hell of a birthday gift. 

Twenty minutes after Tubbo’s walked into the orphanage, the woman comes out through the front doors, walking down the street in a quick pace, like he has somewhere to be. She’s smiling wide and she has a fluffy scarf around her neck. Tommy watches her go until she turns the corner, and he decides that he needs to find a way to strike a conversation with her, if the week should go well. 

Tubbo comes outside into the street with a pink box in his hands, already launching into a ramble of what’s happened, telling Tommy of what they talked about, trying to replay the last twenty minutes in perfect detail just for Tommy. 

The box in Tubbo’s hands holds cupcakes, he finds. 

They eat them together in the plaza while Tubbo rambles on about his interaction. Tommy eats most of the cupcakes. 

\---

On Tuesday, Tommy is the one who drags Tubbo out of bed, and he takes his sweet time getting ready, even when Tubbo is outside in the hallway, practically weeping and whining for Tommy to  _ please _ , just hurry up, it does not take five whole minutes to put a fucking shirt on-

“I can’t hear you, I’m getting ready!” Tommy calls out, then decides that he’s actually going to wear the other shirt he owns. “Ah, wait, I like this other shirt better.”

“THEY BOTH LOOK THE SAME!” Tubbo yells from outside, Tommy laughing. 

They do, actually, Tommy doesn’t own a lot of clothes as a whole, and they aren’t that pretty either. Which isn’t much of a concern to him, his coat is enough to keep the cold out and that’s all he needs. 

Either way, he enjoys the way Tubbo slams at the door and yells out swears, Tommy cackling at his frustration. 

When Tommy finally does swing the door open, Tubbo has cursed him out enough for the caretakers to be giving them both looks, because being a good influence to the younger kids is something they should be worried about, apparently, and Tubbo’s yelled loud enough for his words to echo downstairs.

They find Niki waiting downstairs with a small awkward smile, and Tommy has to actually choke down a laugh at the way Tubbo stumbles, because there's one way to show off the other side of Tubbo’s personality, by overhearing him cuss out Tommy early in the morning. 

But she’s still rather open and friendly, and she invites Tubbo for the two of them to go on a stroll around the plaza, just for the morning. 

And when Tubbo hesitates and gives Tommy an unsure glance, Tommy shoves him down the rest of the stairs. 

It was only two steps, he was fine.

\---

Tubbo comes running back to Tommy, who spends most of the morning shoveling snow for cash, and he holds treats in his pockets and a familiar scarf around his neck. 

He talks about how he was given a tour around the bakery, and he shoves sweets into Tommy’s hands, mentioning someone called Ranboo, who he met with a bit of a chaotic first impression. 

“The oven was on fire, and somehow, that’s a normal thing, with him, Niki didn’t seem too concerned, she put it out really quickly-” Tubbo waves a hand, Tommy snickering and letting Tubbo go on, retelling it all. With each word Tommy just keeps raising his eyebrows and grinning, because, you know what, maybe Tommy will just let these people handle Tubbo. 

“-but I learnt how to frost a cupcake, and that was  _ so _ bad, Niki made it look so easy, seriously-”

“-he kept trying to sneak cookies to me, and Niki told him off right in front of these two customers, it was so funny, I still got to keep the cookies, they were good-”

“-and he’s also not entirely human, too, he didn’t show me what was under his mask, but that’s why his skin is like that! Because he’s a hybrid of some sort-”

Tommy waves his hands, Tubbo pausing. “Wait, what?”

“He’s gotta be like, part endermen or something. He looks like it, and also he makes the noises.” 

“Like the enderman noises?” Tommy asks, and he’s never heard an Enderman directly, monsters like those aren’t common in town, rare sightings have popped up, here and there, but the empire as a whole is free of them. 

“Yeah! Like-” And Tubbo tries to copy the way they sound, Tommy calling him an idiot to his face, and Tubbo scoffs and kicks him in the shin.

They end up having an entirely new conversion over how endermen actually sounds like, which turns into a discussion of monsters as a whole, and then they both start rambling about the nether, what little they know from stray books and stories.

\---

On Wednesday, Niki comes back around with Ramboo in tow, and Tubbo really wasn’t kidding about him being tall and a hybrid of some sort, because he is much taller than Tommy expected. 

It throws him off when he finds out that Niki is the oldest out of the two, and he’s left making an absolutely confused expression as Tubbo strikes up a conversation with the two of them in the middle of the street. 

This time, Tommy comes along, and they go back to the bakery, which is closed just for today, just so they can come over and hang out. 

It’s a quaint little shop, and there’s an upstairs area where they actually live, Tommy’s never wondered about the living areas of the small bakery, but as both him and Tubbo are given a little tour by Ranboo, it’s what he expects. 

There’s a room at the end of the hall upstairs, and when Ranboo opens it, he gives a shrug and says something along the lines of extra storage. 

But the room is mostly empty, and there’s a bed tucked in the corner that Tommy’s eyes get stuck on. Tubbo laughs nervously and quickly asks to try his hand again at frosting cupcakes, because last time had been a disaster. 

Tommy gets roped in, and he’s glad to say that he does just fine, thank you very much. (The frosting is falling off and the cupcake just looks sad) Tubbo seems to get the hang of it by the 15th try, and Ranboo gives a small applause, Niki coming in with food and drinks, smiling wide as Tubbo raises up the successful cupcake into the air. 

It’s sweet moment, literally, from the frosting on Tommy’s hands, and when he volunteers to help clean up with Niki, he finally gets a chance to talk alone with her, Tubbo and Ranboo moving upstairs, to where Ranboo apparently has a collection of small trinkets he wants to show. 

“You are taking Tubbo in, right?” Tommy asks, getting right to the point as he hears both Ramboo and Tubbo yell excitedly upstairs about something. 

Niki nearly drops the tray of messed up cupcakes in her hands, and she spins her head to Tommy with a chuckle. “Oh, I- well, that’s sorta the plan-”

“No, you’re going to.” Tommy says, picking a cupcake apart in his hands, and shoving a piece into his mouth. “You guys are good for him, I think he would like it here.”

Her eyes go soft, and she looks at Tommy with an expression he can’t place, standing still for a moment as the words hang in the air. She puts the tray to the side, ignoring the mess that still needs to be cleaned up and instead walking up to Tommy, arms crossed. 

“You guys are close, aren’t you? He talks about you a lot.” She says. 

“We’re best friends.” Tommy nods, Niki smiling. “And all I want for you to tell me that he's going to have a good home here.”

“I wouldn’t want anything less for him.” Niki agrees, and Tommy hums, satisfied with that answer. His heart feels warm, and he won’t lie about the certain feeling of excitement burning in his chest, because he knows Tubbo’s entirely in denial, and when he gets confirmation over getting adopted, it’s going to be great. 

“But you,” Niki pauses, trying to look for words as Tommy chews on his cupcake. “You and him are really close. Are you okay with him being here, just him? I mean, it would be a little bit much, with you two, but I could take you in too-”

Tommy shakes his head, Niki stopping. It’s appealing, the thought of both him and Tubbo living in this little bakery, with two other people who care. 

But this is Tubbo’s moment. And while it’s so appealing, it’s even more appealing of the thought of Tubbo having this be his, and only his. 

“No.” Tommy says, Niki’s expression going somber for a moment. “I just want Tubbo to be happy here.”

“He’d be happy with  _ you _ here.” Niki shrugs one shoulder up, a last offer.

Tommy shakes his head again, smiling. “Nah. I’ll get my own family some other day, I want Tubbo to have his own.” 

Niki nods, and she’s hugging Tommy before he knows it, and it should be awkward, really, but it’s not. She’s just a comforting person. 

“Well, either way, you’re still family.” Niki says quietly, and Tommy nods, hugging back for a moment before taking a step backward. 

“Our birthday is next week.” He blurts out, Niki blinking. 

“Your-” She pauses, then her eyes go wide. “Oh, really?! I don’t- if you don’t mind, what does he like? Or you too, I could get you both presents-” She stammers, looking slightly panicked, as if she couldn’t just whip up a birthday cake within an hour. 

“You can get me a present, but it’s gotta be this.” Tommy holds up a finger, and Niki waits.

\---

Thursday morning, adoption papers are given to Tubbo, and he’s asked if he’s okay with it, the caretakers looking a bit emotional as they give them to him. 

Tommy thinks this has to be the best birthday gift ever, even if it’s a week early, because Tubbo’s eyes overflow with tears and as he stands in the doorway of their room, papers held tightly in his hands, his heart feels so warm. 

Tommy stays sitting on his bed as Tubbo cries at the doorway, the caretakers telling them that Niki is downstairs, but Tubbo hardly listens, and instead runs at Tommy, tackling him into the mattress. 

They’re left alone for a moment, thankfully, and Tommy hugs Tubbo as tight as he can, Tubbo trying to wave around the papers in his hands, the paper telling everything about him, telling the world that he’s a part of a family, a true one. 

Tommy has to drag him down the stairs, the two of them laughing hysterically, and Tubbo doesn’t need a push this time when he sees Niki, and instead goes running right to her. 

And seeing her hold Tubbo in her arms, in a way that Tommy knows she would die for him, it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. 

They spend the day out at shops, Tommy getting tugged along as well, because there isn’t a chance Tubbo would ever celebrate something like this without him. Niki buys them sweets and they meet with Ranboo at the plaza, who’s entirely thrown off by Tubbo giving him a hug the second he sees him, and both Niki and Tommy laugh. 

\---

Niki agrees for Tubbo to stay another night at the orphanage, with Tommy, and they agree to move his stuff, what little he has, over to the bakery tomorrow morning. 

Tubbo has his few shirts and pants tucked away in boxes, which are placed at the end of his bed, out of the way, but a visual reminder and confirmation that Tubbo’s life has taken a big turn for the better. 

It’s late night, and the room has a slight chill to it, yet it’s warm with the lasting joy from going out and celebrating earlier today. There’s a candle lighting up the room dimly, sitting on the small drawer that’s in between the two beds at opposite sides of the room. 

Both Tommy and Tubbo are underneath their blankets, entirely ready to go to sleep, but instead they chat quietly across the room, ignoring how each of them yawn here and there between sentences. 

“It’s just weird to think about.” Tubbo admits, voice quiet as he stares up at the ceiling, Tommy turning his head to him. “I’m not going to be here anymore.”

Tommy snickers, shaking his head. “You make it sound like you’re going to die.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Tubbo scoffs, grinning. “This place is all I’ve never known. I’m going to have my own  _ room _ , over at the bakery.” 

“I’m going to have my own room here, once you move.” Tommy nods, Tubbo turning his head to him. 

“Won’t the caretakers give you another roommate?”

“Fuck no, I refuse to have one.” Tommy makes a face, and Tubbo laughs softly, because yeah, the caretakers can beg all they want, but Tommy would rather sleep in the hallway on the ground rather than have another roommate. 

Tubbo hums, comfortable silence sitting in the air. 

“I kinda wish you would come with me.” Tubbo says, Tommy sighing under his breath. “We might be cramped, to be honest, back at the bakery, but I would like you there.”

“Nah.” Tommy stares up at the ceiling. “That’s your home. I’ll get my own some other day.”

“You better.” 

There’s a pause, then a shuffling of blankets, and Tubbo slips out of his bed, quickly walking across the cold floor and climbing into Tommy’s bed instead. Tommy lets him climb under the blanket, and Tubbo uses his shoulder as a pillow, the two of them laying there, looking up as if they can see the night sky beyond the wood. 

“I’m kinda scared.” Tubbo admits.

Tommy thinks of having a morning where Tubbo isn’t there to wake him up, thinks of a night where he has to drift off in an empty room. It’s bittersweet, but the image of Tubbo crying with those papers in his hands, running into Niki’s arms, it washes away any sort of regrets, and he just smiles. 

“Yeah.” Tommy agrees. “It’s a bit scary.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“We’re still going to see each other like every day.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo sighs, squinting up at the ceiling, scrunching his nose. “But it’s not the same.”

Tommy leans his head onto Tubbo’s. “Well, that’s okay, isn’t it? A bit of change is good.”

“It is.” Tubbo agrees, and he turns over, wrapping an arm over Tommy. “I think, from now on, things are going to be good.”

Tommy hugs him back. 

“I think so too.”

\---

Friday morning, Tommy helps out with bringing Tubbo’s stuff across town, the two of them carrying boxes in their arms and making a slow walk over to the plaza, to where the bakery is. 

It’s a little crowded when they come in, customers filling up the store, and Ranboo quickly lets them through on the other side of the counter before going to take another order. Niki is in the kitchen, and the air smells sweet. Tubbo leans into the kitchen and clears his throat, and Niki looks up from cookies she was making, a frosting bag in her hands. 

“Oh, Tubbo!” She says, drawing out a smiley face on another cookie as Tubbo gives a good morning. “Sorry, it’s busy today, you two can go upstairs, go ahead, your room is pretty much ready.” 

Tubbo gives a nod, and Tommy watches as she runs over to the oven while tugging on a pair of mittens, Ranboo yelling out something about a cake. 

They walk up the stairs, still hearing the commotion of the people downstairs as they make their way to Tubbo’s room, Tommy opening the door and walking in. 

“Well,” Tommy starts, putting the box down on the bed. “Here’s your room.”

He looks to Tubbo, who stands in the doorway, face pinched. 

“Oh, don’t start crying-”

“I’m not crying!”   
  


“You look like you’re crying.”

Tubbo laughs, shaking his head and walking in, putting the box down to the side as he wipes at his eyes. “I’m just really happy.”

Tommy smiles. “Good.” 

They hang out for a moment, taking out Tubbo’s clothes and putting them away in a small closet to the side, and Tommy hears Ranboo yell out another order, something about cookies, vanilla.

“How confident are you in your frosting abilities?” Tubbo asks, Tommy actually considering it for a moment. 

“I’d say, an eleven out of ten.” Tommy nods, Tubbo snorting. 

“Okay, sounds like bullshit, but either way, I think we should go help.” 

“I know next to nothing about baking, Tubbo-” Tommy tries to say, but he’s already getting dragged down the hallway by the hand, and Tubbo yells out that they can help, and Niki just throws aprons at them when they walk into the kitchen, seeming to trust them with basic tasks. 

At the very least, Tommy knows that he's good at mixing shit with a whisk, and that’s good enough for him. 

\---

Tommy and Tubbo end up baking for the entire day, and while the morning does eventually calm down, it doesn’t make the baking part any easier. Tubbo’s shit with recipes, seeing as he has trouble in general with reading, and Tommy is just bad at staying focused.

But they do end up making a whole batch of cookies that are only slightly crispy, and Niki claps her hands together as Tubbo places them onto a plate.

Ranboo actually does end up setting the oven on fire not once, but twice, like Tubbo said he’s prone to do, and Tommy’s a little impressed at how swiftly Niki puts it out, as if this has become routine. 

The hours pass, Tommy gets used to the sweet smell of the bakery, and the customers come in every now and then, dwindling as the sun goes down. 

Eventually, curfew comes by, and Tommy has to say bye. 

He stands by the doorway of the front door, Tubbo holding the door open. Tommy holds a bag of cookies in his hands, a bit burnt, a bit messy, but still edible, and not bad for their first day. 

They talk even as the night gets colder, and the plaza has gone quiet, street lights dimly lighting up the empty place, the stores holding warm lights from the people inside. 

Eventually, they both just stand there, Tommy just outside, Tubbo lingering in the doorway. 

“...I’m gonna end up passing curfew, at this point.” Tommy mumbles, fiddling with the bag in his hands. 

“That would suck.” Tubbo hums, but they still don’t move. 

Tommy stares down at the cookies in his hands, and thinks about how this is probably going to be the new routine now. He wonders if this means he’s going to end up being somewhat better at baking by the end of the month. Maybe him and Tubbo can bake a cake for their birthday. 

Tommy sighs, and he decides to take the first step, leaning forward and hugging Tubbo, Tubbo hugging him back without a second of hesitation. 

“I really do need to be going.” Tommy says quietly, Tubbo holding onto the back of his coat with a death grip. 

“One more minute.” Tubbo asks, and Tommy lets it be. He can sprint, he’ll make it. 

A minute or so passes, and Tommy still holds on. 

“...stop being clingy.”

“Fuck you.”

Tubbo laughs, and Tommy lets go, taking a step back. 

“See you in the morning?” Tubbo asks, tilting his head. 

“Yeah.” Tommy nods, taking another small step back, so he can push himself to start going already. “First thing in the morning.”

“See you.”

“See you.”

And he turns around with a wave, Tubbo pulling the door shut. Tommy looks at Tubbo through the glass window of the bakery, then goes into a sprint, running out of the plaza, through the frigidness of the night. 

It’s so goddamn cold, and the snow crunches under his boots as he runs, his throat a bit dry as he breathes in the sharp air. 

He slows down a few minutes in, panting as he walks down dim streets, and he can see a small group of people huddled to the side, not even around a fire or anything, just in the dark, in the cold. 

One of them calls out to Tommy, running out into the street and waving like they’re old friends. Tommy has never seen this guy before in his life. 

“Hey! Hey, kid!” He says, getting in Tommy’s way, and making moves so that Tommy can’t step around him. 

“Sorry, but I need to-” Tommy starts to say, but an arm gets thrown over his shoulders, and he stumbles as he gets pulled along to the side, rather harshly. He notes that the dude reeks of alcohol.

“Come  _ on _ , help us out a bit.” The man says, and tugs Tommy over to the alley, keeping a smile on the whole time. 

Tommy really isn’t all that surprised when a knife gets flicked open the second he’s near. 

However,  _ they _ get surprised when Tommy throws a first punch, no hesitation, jabbing someone in the throat with a loud swear that echoes down the street. 

He’s never really been mugged before, thieves are really not that common around here, there’s hardly ever people that bad around. But he’s pretty sure that they’re not going to do anything good, to either him, or any other victims after him, so Tommy shoves the bag of cookies he has in his pocket, dodges a weak kick, and swings. 

He’s so going to miss curfew. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl I'm not too confident about this chapter but uh, hope you liked it
> 
> thank u for reading


	4. Weird greetings

  
  


The thing is, even with the element of surprise, Tommy isn’t exactly the best fighter. Sure, him and Tubbo sometimes mess around, swinging at each other in the morning, laughing and dodging before one of them inevitably tackle the other into the ground, but that’s Tubbo, who’s shorter than Tommy, and honestly, a little weaker. 

Tommy’s full of spite, but he’s young, and he’s going against like four other drunk guys waving around a knife. He’s not entirely sure if this is a fair fight, but fairness isn’t what’s running through his mind when he jabs the closest guy to him in the throat, with a loud “MotherFUCKER-”

The guy chokes and sputters, falling to the ground, and Tommy sends a kick right across his face, watching as the knife clatters to the ground, forgotten as yells raise up. 

Arms wrap around him to try and hold him in place so the others can get a hit in, but Tommy just leans back and swings his legs up, slamming a foot into someone’s chin, before landing his feet on the alley wall and pushing, getting let go and dropping to the ground. 

“Get him!”

“Oh, that brat broke my jaw-!”

Tommy groans as he lands harshly on the cold ground, his shoulder yelling in protest, then he quickly rolls to the side as a boot comes flying down to where his face was just a moment prior. 

He tries pushing himself to his feet to make a run for it, but his ankle gets grabbed and he falls back down, getting dragged across the floor, kicking with his other leg to get them to let go. 

“I WILL BREAK YOUR  _ GODDAMN _ ANKLES-” Tommy yells, kicking at someone’s shin with every word. 

He slams his foot down particularly hard, and he scrambles to get to his feet, only to get punched across his face and pushed into a wall. Tommy stumbles on his feet, raising his arms to block as he sees a guy get into a stance in front of him, the others circling around, cheering on. 

Tommy waits for the other guy to punch first, then he leans to the side, his fist connecting with the wall instead as Tommy knees him in the gut, then books it out of the alley, screaming.

He feels the ground sway under his feet, and he tries to brush away the ache running through his shoulder, blinking away the pain and instead sprinting down the street, trying not to trip, turning his head backwards to find that he’s getting followed. 

Holding a hand to his mouth, which stings from being hit, he keeps running, hearing yells and swears behind him, and he just raises a hand up and flips them off, before running even faster. They scream in offense at it, and Tommy gets hit in the head with something flying through the air, wincing as he tries to not stumble, moving his hand from his mouth to his head. 

He’s not even sure where he’s going, his throat burns with the night cold, and he’s going down an unfamiliar street, running past buildings who’s lights turn on as Tommy runs past with a bunch of drunk yelling men at his heels. He can see some people actually wake up and lean out of their houses, curious and slightly concerned. 

Looking at his hand for a moment, pulling it away from his head, Tommy makes a face at the small bit of blood on his palm, before turning his head back around, still running while yelling at the guys following him. 

“Fuck you!” One of them yell.

“Fuck  _ you _ !” Tommy responds, eloquently, and turns at a crossroads, snow getting kicked up as he skids across the stone path, nearly falling over in his haste. 

Another rock gets thrown his way, and Tommy ducks, then trips, rolling in the snow and groaning. For a second, he thinks he’s about to get absolutely beat up, but there’s people coming out of the buildings down the street, yelling in concern. 

Someone yells for guards, and Tommy rolls over, holds his hands to his head, then passes out with the image of seeing one of the drunk guys get tackled by a civilian. 

Street brawl, Tommy thinks, before slipping right into unconsciousness. How fun. 

\---

Tommy stirs for a moment, blinking his eyes open to the sound of a horse whinny, and he squints through the dark just long enough to make out that he’s on a cart or something, people talking amongst him, before his head hurts again, and he decides he’s not dealing with this, and passes right back out. 

“Yo, is he okay?” Someone says, Tommy groaning and squeezing his eyes closed, because those are not voices he recognizes, but he knows the tone of a slightly disappointed adult. Did he get dragged along with the drunk guys to the police? He got dragged along to the police, didn’t he.

“Uh, he’s breathing?” Another guy responds, voice deep. Someone pokes a finger at his head, hesitant. 

“That’s not what I  _ meant- _ ” 

Tommy passes back out. 

\---

When Tommy does wake up, it’s to a stone ceiling and a very uncomfy surface under him, and for a split second, he thinks he might’ve gotten arrested, and he sits up, eyes wide.

Only to find that, no, he’s in an office of some sort, and he’s on a bench, not a cell bed. Which, reassuring, but not so much, because he has no clue where he is. 

There’s a desk in the middle of the room with papers scattered around, some shelfs to the side with a bunch of books, files, folders. A small window on the wall tells him that it’s morning, with the sunlight coming through. 

His coat is nowhere to be found, and he sits up, swinging his legs onto the ground, and debating on going for the door, where there’s some voices coming through. 

Just as Tommy’s about to get up, the door swings open, someone walking in as they yell to someone else in the building. 

“No, Fundy, keep those two apart, they’re going to-” The man stops in his tracks, looking to Tommy with wide eyes, Tommy looking back with the same surprised expression. “Oh! You’re up.”

“Uh.” Tommy says, looking over the man in front of him, panicking just a little as he sees the light armor over his chest, the Empire’s symbol in the metal. He’s tall, and he has a pair of sunglasses over his eyes as he gives a friendly grin, walking over to Tommy. 

“Morning. Or, afternoon, really, you slept in.” He says, and Tommy shakes the hand offered to him, eyes glancing out of the open door and seeing scattered people, papers being handed around. “I’m Eret. You’re currently at a local precinct, you got brought here after the commotion that was last night.”

“Precinct?” Tommy repeats, raising his eyebrows, looking at the armor on Eret before processing a little more. “Wait, what commotion?” Tommy asks, rubbing at his lip and finding that it stings. 

Memories come rushing back, and Tommy remembers, oh right, punching someone in the throat, getting dragged across the floor, yeah, that’s probably enough to make some people think he’s part of something not good, starting a fight in an alleyway. 

“Ah, well,” Eret starts, twiddling his thumbs together as Tommy looks over his own hands and finds them to be kinda sore. “-according to witness reports, you came running down the street with a bunch of drunk men at your heels, then you passed out, someone tried apprehending one of the men, which turned into a fight, which led to people trying to help out in the fight, which just turned into like, 10 people fighting in the middle of the night.”

Tommy chokes back a laugh, trying to be polite.

“Obviously, there were some complaints. Arrests were made.” Eret finishes, and Tommy notes the way he sighs, half wondering if this guy got any sleep throughout the night. 

“Am I in trouble?” Tommy asks, feeling nervous as he scoots back on the bench. 

“Yes and no? You’re a kid, from what I can see, that’s why I let you sleep in my office rather than in a holding cell. Although, one guy is complaining over you breaking his jaw.” Eret shrugs, Tommy rolling his eyes. 

“I mean, I was getting mugged, it’s justified.”

Eret snaps his fingers, pointing down at Tommy. “Now that’s something they did not mention.” Taking a few steps back and grabbing some papers from the desk, Tommy watches as Eret turns back around, out of the office. “I need to go figure out a few things, do me a favor, stay here, and we’ll get you sorted out in just a bit.” 

Tommy blinks as the door gets quietly shut, and he’s left in the room once again, left with his thoughts. 

Now, there’s plenty of things Tommy could’ve done, should've done, should’ve not done. 

He could’ve sat still. Maybe snooped around in the papers lying around. Maybe, follow Eret out, perhaps? Anything other than look up at the window and go  _ ‘you know what’s a really good idea?’ _

He goes out the window.

The only thing on his mind is that there’s no way he’s going to let himself get in trouble for getting  _ mugged _ and also, he had told Tubbo that he would meet him first thing in the morning. 

It’s afternoon, now. Tommy has bigger worries than the guy with a messed up jaw, that is not his concern, even though he’s the one who kicked him. 

So Tommy grabs the chair sitting in front of the desk and drags it over to the wall, climbing onto it and looking over the window, glad to find a latch. He tugs it open and feels the cold air come in, kicking his feet against the wall and crawling out. 

Thankfully, it’s not that much of a drop outside, and Tommy falls into snow, gritting his teeth at the way it sticks to him, Tommy quickly sitting up, brushing it off his shirt. For a second, he wonders who the heck took his coat, and there’s a split moment of panic of Tommy not having the cookies that Tubbo had gifted him last night, but he finds them still tucked away in his pocket, a bit broken, but still good. He moves on to walk out of the alley. 

It leads out into the street, where Tommy walks out into the open, making a face at the snow falling from the sky, wrapping his arms around himself as he looks around. 

“Hey!” He hears, and Tommy looks to the front doors of the building he just came out of, and there’s Eret, seeming to be finishing up a conversation with a civilian at the front doors. “Weren’t you- How did you just-”

“Uh, bye!” Tommy waves a hand, and ignores the yelling that comes back, instead choosing to run down the street. 

He feels panic grow in his chest when he realizes he doesn’t recognize any of these buildings, any of these roads, and not only that, there’s people running after him.

Tommy feels a bit like a criminal on the run, and he probably looks like one, running from the guards as if they’re going to murder him, when really, he’s just lost and not in the mood to get arrested. 

“Wait, kid!” Someone yells, and Tommy does not listen, only runs faster, turns the corner, and goes into the first shop he sees, pulling the door open and slipping inside, sighing at the sudden warmth, a grand contrast from the temperature outside. 

He quickly walks through the building, a quiet mantra of ‘don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious, I am totally cool-’ going through his head. 

He seemed to have walked into a small diner of some kind, and it doesn’t seem to matter that he came inside in a rush, because most of the people in here are distracted and huddled by the corner, at the side. 

The place is lit up warmly, candle light overhead, and there’s wooden tables here and there, mostly empty, so no one notices Tommy sitting himself down in a chair, eyes glancing out of the front windows, watching the guards pass by, confused and panicked. 

Cool, so he’s lost them. 

He looks around the place some more, seeing a bar at the end of the diner, some people scattered around, quiet amongst themselves, and a small crowd of people around a table at the corner, invested in their conversations. Tommy can see three different servers sitting down there, and he wonders what could be so interesting that they’re not even doing their jobs.

Looking around some more, trying to shove down the feeling of being lost, Tommy rubs his hands up and down his arms, trying to get off the chill of outside, and he looks from table to table, to the few people who are in their own conversations, having a meal.

There’s a shady guy with a hood giving looks over to the corner, fidgeting and serious, and Tommy looks back at the busy table, trying to see who he’s glaring at. 

He doesn’t get a chance to really spot anyone important though, because the guy gets up from his seat rather suddenly, then starts to walk over to the table, and Tommy gets up too, not quite sure why he did, before seeing a small glint of light in the man’s hand. 

There’s a split second of Tommy wishing this morning was a lot calmer than it actually is, then he brushes off the thought and rushes forward, eyes going wide as he realizes, yup, that’s a knife. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tommy yells, quickly making his way over, and the conversation at the table stops, heads turning over to him, but it doesn’t seem to deter the guy with a literal knife, so Tommy grabs a plate off of a passing table, then runs, ignoring the way a chair hits into his hip as he rushes forward-

“He’s got a knife!” Tommy yells, then sends the plate flying, watching as it shatters against the guy’s head, making him stumble back. 

People are getting to their feet, and there are screams of surprise as the knife gets spotted. Someone immediately runs out of the diner, and Tommy feels a little glad that he’s dragged along some guards outside. 

Tommy grabs another plate and sends it flying as people start yelling, trying to push someone outside. 

“Phil, go, quick-!”

“Hold on, wait-”

The second plate just smashes into the wall, but Knife Guy seems to be annoyed enough with Tommy and moves towards him, Tommy scrambling to crawl under a table to get away. 

He goes to try and crawl out to the other side so he can run, but his ankle gets grabbed at the last moment, and he screams as it gets yanked, Tommy grabbing onto one of the legs of the table to avoid getting dragged out. 

Kicking the hand off, Tommy turns around and scoots back to watch as the guy gets slammed backwards, falling into some chairs behind him. 

Crawling out from the other side of the table, Tommy gets to his feet to see Eret and some others come in, as well as seeing people try and shove Phil away from where there’s a fight going on. Tommy takes the distraction and runs over to a side door, by the bar. 

“Phil, go, get out of here-” A server insists, Phil stammering and watching as a chair gets thrown to the side. 

“Look, the guards are here, thank you for visiting, please, for your safety-” Someone else says, and Phil tugs at the thin grey cape around his shoulders, smiling. 

Tommy glances back as he pushes the door open, and he locks eyes with Phil from across the diner for a split second, freezing as Phil blinks at him, still surrounded by worried people. 

  
“Actually-” Phil starts, as Tommy quickly runs outside to the alleyway beside the diner. “Why don’t I go out the side door, so I can make my way back without much attention?”

Tommy doesn’t hear Phil, and doesn’t hear the agreeing responses, only goes outside and shutting the door behind him, leaning onto the cold brick wall and sighing dramatically into the chilly air, rubbing a hand over his face. 

He flinches at forgetting that his face is kinda fucked up, or at least bruised, and he takes his hand away, instead poking at his head, wondering if he did get a cut from last night, with a rock getting thrown at him and all. 

His heart is still racing, and Tommy sighs again, groaning into his hands as he tries to wrap his head around everything that’s happened so far, and where to go from now on. Tubbo’s probably panicking, with Tommy not meeting with him yet. Tommy isn’t entirely sure where he even is, because he’s never been to a precinct in his life, and the streets around him aren’t familiar. 

Taking a deep breath in, Tommy straightens up, trying to calm himself. 

Then the door swings open and Tommy debates on starting to sprint away, again, but it’s just one person with worried eyes and a familiar face, and Tommy pauses, standing still. 

“Oh.” Phil says, closing the door behind him, turning to Tommy. “You’re still out here.” He grins, and Tommy stares, taking a small step back, tilting his head to the side as he looks to the hat on Phil’s head, confused at where he’s seen this before. 

Phil looks back at Tommy, and his eyes go wide, taking a few steps forward as Tommy stumbles back a little. “Your face! Wha- Did you get that from inside-?”

“Ah, no.” Tommy shakes his head, still confused as to why this guy’s face is so familiar, and he wraps his arms around himself, trying to go for a hesitant smile. “This is just from last night.” He blurts out, realizing a second after that isn’t really making his situation better. 

“Last night?” Phil repeats, and Tommy shakes his head, taking a step back. 

“Yeah- uh, you know, I’ve just been busy, I should probably go…” Tommy starts to say, taking a step back, but Phil’s face goes stern, and Tommy gives up on running away, feeling like he’s getting scolded. 

“Where are your parents?” Phil asks, looking over Tommy again, frowning at noticing he doesn't have a coat for this type of weather, and he tugs off the grey cape over his shoulders. 

“Well, don’t have any.”

“You don’t have any? You’re out on your own?” Phil’s eyes soften, and he goes from stern to concerned in seconds.

“No! I’m just-” Tommy clears his throat. “I was just going to go visit a friend, right now, I’m not out on the street, if that’s what you’re thinking, I have a home, it’s just been a busy morning, or, uh, afternoon, so-” 

Tommy goes quiet when Phil holds out his cape, and he takes it from Phil without another word, holding in his hands for a moment, before realizing, wait, he just handed over his cape-

He tries to hand it back, and Phil refuses, grinning. “Don’t worry. I have plenty. You should stay warm, out here.”

Frowning a little, Tommy goes to insist, because he doesn’t want to just  _ take _ something, but he pauses as seeing something shift behind the man’s back, and he leans to the side, eyes going wide when he sees feathers. Tommy stands up straight, staring at Phil, and he realizes why that face is so familiar, why he feels like he’s seen him before. 

  
“Holy fuck.” Tommy says, without thinking, and Phil snickers, holding a hand over his mouth, and Tommy slaps a hand over his own mouth, trying to not stare at the wings on Phil’s back, because holy fuck, this is the ruler of the empire, Tommy just swore in front of the fucking  _ Emperor- _

“Oop, sorry, I’m Phil. Didn’t introduce myself.” Phil grins, and Tommy squeezes the cloth in his hands, trying to not panic, for like the third time this morning. 

“Tommy.” He stammers out, feeling his heart drop, because oh no, the Emperor followed out into the alleyway, probably to talk to him, oh he’s so dead- “My name is Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy.” Phil nods, and he glances to the door beside him, voices coming from the other side. “I wanted to say thanks, for what you did in there, that was pretty brave.”

“He had a knife, I-I just thought…” Tommy trails off, words failing him. 

“Yeah, he was probably going for me. Not so terribly uncommon, unfortunately.” Phil shrugs, in a sorta ‘what can you do’ manner. Tommy feels like he’s about to die. “Are you alright, though? You seem a bit roughed up.” 

“I’m good.” Tommy croaks out, tugging at the cape in his hands and pulling it over his shoulders, trying to ignore the way he’s screaming internally that the emperor just gave him his cape, holy fuck, this cape belonged to  _ royalty- _ “I, uh, really do need to go, right now, thanks for the cape, and uh-”

“It’s nothing, mate.” Phil reassures, and he gives a warm smile, Tommy returning it without a second thought. “See you around, maybe? I visit sometimes, in this town.”

“Yeah, yeah, maybe.” Tommy nods, then steps around Phil, ignoring the way he nearly stumbles and he goes into a run, out into the street, and away. 

Phil watches him go with curious eyes, and for a moment he thinks about following, before deciding that he should get back to the castle, and he spreads his wings out in the alleyway, flying up into the air. 

\---

Techno opens his eyes to a weight sitting on his shoulder and the blanket being stolen, and he groans quietly in annoyance. He closes his eyes again, sighing. 

“Shuddup.” Wilbur mumbles, even though Techno hasn’t even said anything. 

“Get off me.” Techno responds, tilting his head, his chin resting on Wilbur’s hair, and Wilbur just throws an arm over Techno and holds on, hugging him like an annoying octopus. 

“You get off.” Wilbur says back, and Techno opens his eyes again, huffing at the light pouring in from the window, the way the room runs slightly cold. The fireplace at the end of the room isn’t burning, and Techno tries to remember if they forgot to put wood, for last night. 

“You’re the one  _ on me _ .” Techno grumbles, and Wilbur raises a hand up and pats him on the side of the head. Techno looks over Wilbur’s head to find that, yup, he stole the blanket. 

“And you’re the one who crawled into my bed, waking me up at a ungodly time of the night, so shut up.” Wilbur says, and Techno just sighs when the arms around him tighten. Looking around the room, Techno does note that this  _ is _ Wilbur’s room, with the guitar in the corner, and lack of swords hanging up on the walls. 

He faintly remembers waking up last night to his head being too loud, stumbling down the hall and letting himself into Will’s room, yanking the sheets off of Wilbur. 

He remembers Wilbur complaining, but still letting Techno stay, and the humming letting him fall to sleep as Techno held onto Wilbur like a lifeline. 

Wilbur hums the same notes now, fingers picking at the pillow under Techno’s head, and Techno looks back over to the window, noting the dim sun and the light snowfall, and his internal clock tells him they’re a bit late for morning. 

“Alright, get off.” Techno says, nudging Wilbur in the head. He looks down to Wilbur’s hair, noting that there’s just the slightest bit of his pink roots showing up. He probably has to re-dye it already.

“But I’m comfy.” Wilbur insists, voice muffled with his face in Techno’s shoulder. “Ten more minutes.”

Techno rolls his eyes. One way or another, they’re going to have to wake up, Phil is going to come back from visiting the town soon, and if they’re both not up, they’re going to get a teasing remark about sleeping in late. “We slept in enough, Phil’s gonna-”

“I can’t hear you, I’m asleep.” Wilbur responds stubbornly. 

“Wake up.” Techno deadpans, already making a mental list for today. He wants to spar in the training grounds today. His head is quieter than last night, but it’s still a bit worse than usual, and he needs to blow off steam. 

“No.” 

“I’m going to push you off if you don’t wake up.”

“ _ No- _ ”

“One.” Techno starts. 

“Techno, I am  _ comfy- _ ”

“Two.”

“If you push me off, I’m gonna-” Wilbur tries, and there really isn’t much he can threaten, so Techno doesn’t even let him finish. 

“Three.” Techno says, and then he pushes Wilbur off the bed, Wilbur screaming. “Good morning to you.” 

\---

They eventually both leave the living quarters, passing by the kitchens to get some breakfast, then the two of them go over to the training grounds, Wilbur insisting on coming along when Techno said he was itching for a fight. 

“You want to spar?” Techno raises his eyebrows, Wilbur quickly shaking his head. 

“Uh, maybe later. I just want to watch.” Wilbur laughs, and Techno just smiles, because he’s going to end up dragging Wilbur into a fight, one way or another. 

The servants talk as they pass through the halls, and Wilbur listens in, Techno just looking straight ahead rather than paying attention to that, because Wilbur has more of a knack for figuring out gossip rather than him. 

Once they get to the training grounds, there’s a few royal guards practicing out, and Techno just throws his cape to the side, taking his sword off from his hip. 

“Good morning, your highness. Or good afternoon, rather.” One of them says, Wilbur giving a friendly wave, staying back as Techno ties his hair up. 

“Morning.” Techno gives, then promptly tells all three of them to fight him, at once. 

The guards know Techo well enough to not hesitate, and Techno gets right into it with a grin, swords hitting with a loud clang. 

Wilbur stays busy, and walks around the training grounds, observing the few flowers in pots here and there, and goes to chat with the servants that pass through the nearby halls, picking up snippets, stories, that’s followed Phil, who’s only just arrived at the castle. 

“Did you hear of the attempt on the Emperor’s life earlier?” Wilbur hears, and he quickly joins in, smiling warmly. 

“A what? When?” Wilbur asks, and he gets a quick answer. 

“Oh, your highness! Yes, this morning! A man with a knife, when he was visiting one of the nearby towns-”

“Is he alright?” Wilbur asks, and he quickly gets reassured. 

“Yes, yes, of course, I heard the attacker was apprehended by a  _ child _ .”

“That’s just a bit embarrassing.” Wilbur mumbles, and he gets smiles in return. 

Wilbur keeps walking around, keeps collecting bits and pieces of the story, and by the time Phil has made his way through the castle, back from visiting the town, Techno’s already wiped the floor with the guards, and Wilbur’s ran over to Techno to tell of what he now knows. 

Phil turns the corner at the hall to see Techno and Wilbur far off, and he walks up to them, Wilbur talking into Techno’s ear as he waves to Phil.

“-so, the kid then smashes a plate over the guy’s head, yelling that he has a knife. Kid is nowhere to be found in the next moments after the guards show up, but Phil leaves soon right after.” Wilbur quickly says, Techno putting his sword back onto his hip, narrowing his eyes to Phil as he gets close. 

“But who’s the kid?” Techno asks, Wilbur shrugging. 

“No clue. No one knows.” Wilbur responds, the two of them looking to Phil, words left unspoken. Phil could know. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, walking up to them both. 

“You nearly got stabbed!” Wilbur says as a greeting, Phil pausing. 

“Who’s the kid who saved you?” Techno asks curiously, Wilbur nodding very seriously. 

Phil sighs fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh I've been working on this chap for a while, ngl I'm not sure if it's good or not, but I hope it's fun to read? Hope you like it? We are getting there.
> 
> I tried my best! :D


	5. Chaotic tendencies kinda run in the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows kiss* for the family dynamic bitches
> 
> (It's me, I'm bitches)

“I take it you’ve heard of my eventful morning already?” Phil grins, pulling his hat off his head. He usually only wears it when he goes off to visit the nearby towns, but when he’s in meetings, in the castle, he wears his crown. Having just arrived, however, he doesn’t have it on him. 

“Yes, yes, assassination attempt number…?” Wilbur trails off, Techno glancing up to the sky with a hum. 

“Four?” Techno asks, only half sure. 

“Four!” Wilbur chimes, nodding. “And we’re only halfway through the year, say, if no one else tries to murder you for the rest of the year, we’ll make a new record.” Techno snorts, Wilbur grinning and throwing an arm over his shoulders. Techno just leans into him. 

“Here I was hoping I could talk about this delicious hot chocolate I tried this morning, rather than the rude fucker who tried to kill me.” Phil smiles, only poking fun. “Yes, there was someone with a knife while I was at a diner or something. They didn’t get far.”

“A kid smashed a plate over his head.” Technoblade says, narrowing his eyes at Phil, as if daring him to contradict what Wilbur’s told him. 

“Yup.” Phil nods, Wilbur raising his eyebrows. He had thought that maybe the rumors got warped. Maybe Phil’s savior was just short. “My rescuer. Although, he was more of a teenager, than a kid, but still. Quite young. And a bit skittish.”

Phil’s mind wanders back to the rushed conversation in the alley. He wonders if Tommy’s at his friend’s place yet or not. He can’t help the tug in his heart, of worry, at seeing the state of Tommy earlier, and he wonders if maybe later on he can find a way to see him again, just to thank him, maybe repay him. He’s sure the kid would appreciate a gift.

“Huh.” Techno only says, Wilbur holding a hand to his mouth as he squints at Phil, taking his words in, processing for a moment, before-

“So you got saved by an actual  _ child _ ?” Wilbur asks, Phil holding back a snicker. 

“A teenager, Will.” Phil corrects, smiling in amusement, but his words go unheard. 

“An infant!” Techno yells out, Wilbur choking on a laugh, doubling over. “Phil, please, that’s so embarrassing, you had to be saved by a twelve year old-”

“Imagine how embarrassing it has to be for the attacker?” Wilbur chokes out. “Getting fucking  _ owned _ by a  _ child- _ ”

“Weeeak-”

“Hah!” 

Phil rolls his eyes, snickering, Techno smiling wide as Wilbur laughs loudly, a few servants turning heads at the three of them. 

“Okay, but, but-” Wilbur waves a hand, gasping for a breath. “Who was he? The kid.”

Phil shrugs. “No idea. Just a passing civilian. Brave kiddo, I wish I talked longer with him.” Phil wonders why Tommy hadn’t had a coat of any sort, outside like that. Maybe he left it indoors? It sounds like a reasonable excuse, and Phil tries to tell himself that’s what it was, but his heart still won’t leave it, and he worries that maybe Tommy had fudged the truth on being out on the streets.

And it’s not Phil’s worry to care about every kid who’s cold and homeless, he has help in place for that, he can send people to do that for him, but he finds he just...doesn’t really want that, specifically. 

“What’d he look like?” Wilbur asks, leaning forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Did you get his name?”

“Was he at least good at fighting?” Techno asks, crossing his arms, Wilbur nodding, wanting to know that one as well. 

“No,” Phil says, to Wilbur, because he knows very well where Wilbur’s questions are going to go, they’re going to end up in him digging into something because he’s bored. “And no.” He answers to Techno. “He threw a plate, then hid under a table. Effective, but not impressive, I’m afraid.” 

Wilbur gives him a face, Techno only nodding, like he knew Tommy wouldn’t exactly be an expert fighter. 

Techno turns his head to Wilbur, who looks back at him, and they have a moment of looking in to each other’s eyes, that weird communication Phil could never quite understand, and Wilbur lowers his chin the slightest bit, Techno tilting his head to the left, giving a half shrug. 

“I’m going.” Techno suddenly announces, looking away from Wilbur, and walking past Phil, to the exit of the training grounds. Wilbur follows right on his heels. 

“Ahem.” Phil turns, crossing his arms, and the twins pause, glancing to each other again, before slowly turning back to Phil. “Where to, exactly?”

“Uhhh,” Techno trails off, his ear flicking for a moment as he thinks. “The library.” 

“Yup, we’re going to go research all the other fun times you nearly got killed.” Wilbur adds on, voice upbeat, and Phil just smiles, because, sure, they could be doing that, or they could be planning trouble. 

Ah, who is he kidding. They’re both planning something. He knows from the way Techno’s given a lie, and from the way Wilbur added on to try and cover it. 

“And to go prepare for your afternoon lessons too, I hope?” Phil grins, Wilbur making a face. Their classes start in about an hour, and the reminder is a silent warning to behave. 

“Yes.” Wilbur grumbles out, turning to Techno, who seems perfectly okay with lessons. He always is, Techno is always at the top of his marks, never lost. And while Wilbur is the same, Wilbur just has a bit more of a habit of getting off track, and once he gets Techno in on goofing around, rather than studying, there’s no hope for either of them in making them go back to their books. “But, it was nice seeing you, we’re going to go dig through some bookshelves-”

“I could walk with you.” Phil suggests, taking a few steps forward. “I don’t mind spending a bit of time with you two before I go work.” That, and he’s pretty sure they’re both planning something. 

Wilbur opens his mouth to interject, but Techno beats him to it, waving a hand as Wilbur grabs him by the arm, slowly moving them both away from Phil. “Nah, you don’t have to, we gotta go be nerds in peace, dad, I’m pretty sure you have a meeting in like ten minutes-”

Phil holds a hand to his heart, standing still with a smile. It’s not rare for the boys to actually call him dad, in every way, he is their father, but they’ve also gotten the habit of calling Phil by his name, instead. And everytime they  _ do _ say ‘dad’ it still tugs at his heartstrings, even after all these years. 

“Yup, what he said𑁋 bye!” Wilbur says, then breaks into a run, dragging Techno with him, the two of them running into and down the hall. 

Phil just watches them go, shaking his head. He does hope they don’t skip their lessons. Then, he’ll actually have to step up, but right now, he’s sure they’re just going to go poke around, ask around. 

He fidgets with the hat held in his hands, and goes off to get ready, to change into some less casual clothes so he can get back to the busy work that goes on, for being an emperor. 

\---

An hour and a half later, Phil’s in the middle of a meeting, a guard leaning in beside him and telling him quietly that the princes have ditched their afternoon classes, instead sneaking out of a window to a nearby town. 

It might’ve raised alarms, with the two of them doing that, but they do things like that often enough that the guards know to just watch and wave, because if they get in the way, Technoblade  _ will _ take it as an invitation to spar, Wilbur yelling out encouragement on the sidelines. 

Phil smiles, knowing he’s going to have to ground them when they come back, and he's about to just decide on that, waiting for the two of them to return, so he can chew them out, but he pauses, as he realizes why exactly they’re going to the town again. 

For Tommy, he realizes, and he pauses, tuning out whatever his advisors are saying, as his mind wanders again, to that kid. He can’t shake the thought of him off, and Phil swore, swore to himself, he’s not going to get carried away, he has enough duties as it is, he can’t go worrying over other children-

He gets up to his feet abruptly, pushing his chair back with a screech, and everyone quiets. 

“Uh,” Someone says, as Phil stares at the table under his hands, wanting to sigh. “Your Grace?”

“Push back this meeting for an hour, please?” Phil says, giving a warm smile, walking towards the door. “I’ll be right back. Just need to go check on something.” And he’s gone, no one saying otherside, because really, you can’t stop the emperor when he’s on a mission, with that look in his eyes. 

\---

Tubbo wakes up to Niki calling him from downstairs, a knock at his door. 

“Tubbo?” Ranboo says from outside, Tubbo groaning, turning over in his bed. “Wake up! I thought you were going to go off and hang out with Tommy today?”

Tubbo’s eyes snap open at the mention of Tommy, and he’s only slightly thrown off by the fact he’s in his own room, and he looks to his side on habit, checking for another bed. There isn’t one, and Tubbo blinks, chasing away the pang of sadness and instead yawning, groaning loudly and shoving his face into a pillow. 

“Okay, well, you sound awake.” Ranboo says through the door. 

“What time is it?!” Tubbo whines, sitting up in his bed, running his hands through his hair. He’s not sure if Tommy is going to come over here, or if he’s going to go to Tommy. 

“Uh, like, 12 or so?” Ranboo answers, and Tubbo freezes, holding back another yawn. He practically throws himself off the bed, stumbling in his haste to throw on clean clothes, and he makes his way to the door, swinging it open to find Ranboo, jolting as Tubbo ducks under his arm, running down the hallway. 

“Gotta go!” He yells out, not hearing what Ranboo says back, because he’s already down the stairs, walking through the kitchen-

Only to have Niki step into his way, holding her hands out. “Hey, hey! Good morning?” 

“Hi.” Tubbo smiles, feeling warm, and not just because of the current ovens baking treats around them. “Morning.”

“Off to go run with Tommy?” Niki asks, raising her eyebrows, walking back over to the counter, where she’s rolling out dough. “Eat something first.”

“Can’t I just grab a muffin and go?” Tubbo asks, going over to a case where some of the orders are held. The bottom shelf holds extras, he was told that a little while ago. He’s free to grab whatever’s there, as long as he doesn’t mind the occasional burnt pastry. 

“You can, but grab one for Tommy too.” Niki smiles, and Ranboo comes down the stairs, Niki waving him over for him to take over with the rolling pin. She pats her hands on the apron around her waist, going over to grab a napkin, to wrap the muffin for Tommy in. Tubbo gives her the extra muffin, and she tells him to go grab a coat. 

Tubbo runs up the stairs, chewing on bread, half wondering why Tommy hasn’t gotten here yet. Maybe the caretakers got paranoid with Tubbo no longer being his field trip buddy. Maybe he did get back late last night. Oh, that would suck. But Tubbo wouldn’t mind hanging out with Tommy while he’s stuck with chores. 

He comes back down the stairs with a new coat on, and Niki hands him a wrapped muffin, gives safe wishes, and he’s out the door, running down the street, towards a place he called home just yesterday. 

When he gets there, it’s general chaos, as always, with kids running around, screaming and being loud. It’s comforting, in a way. 

But the face he gets when he asks for Tommy, it makes him ignore the kids yelling entirely. 

He asks for Tommy. He only gets strained smiles, shocked realizations. 

He runs to Tommy’s room, their room, once. The bed is empty.

Tubbo leaves the muffin on Tommy’s pillow, then  _ runs _ .

\---

“He never got back!” Tubbo yells, swinging the bakery door open, panting from running across town, eyes glassy. “I went to look for Tommy, they didn’t have him, he wasn’t there-”

Niki is tending to a customer, and she completely drops them as soon as Tubbo comes in looking near tears, actually jumping over the counter to get to Tubbo. She tells Ranboo to close shop, as Tubbo shoves his face into her side. 

“What? What do you mean-” Niki tries asking, Tubbo shaking his head, feeling himself get led over to behind the counter as Ranboo politely tells people to get out. 

“I should have just made him stay here! He would have been in so much trouble, but right now I don’t even know where he is-!” Tubbo cries out, voice muffled as he wraps his arms around Niki’s waist. 

“Tubbo, please.” Niki says softly, pulling him off, kneeling down, grabbing Tubbo’s face. “Breath, calm down. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tubbo shakes his head, and he’s not sure when he started crying, but he’s pretty sure it started when he realized his best friend was nowhere to be found. 

“Tommy’s gone, he’s gone.” Tubbo says, sniffing loudly, before wiping his hand at his face. “He never got back after last night, I asked over and over at the orphanage, and no one saw him come back, they don’t know where he is-”

“But they’re looking for him?” Niki asks, moving her hands to Tubbo’s shoulders, squeezing tight. 

“Yeah, they are, but they still don’t know where he is! They’re going to go to the police in a bit, but that’s in the next town over-!”

“Tubbo.” Niki says, calm. “It’s alright.”

“No it isn’t! Tommy is probably off in a shady alleyway somewhere, doing who knows what!” Tubbo yells, throwing his hands up. It’s not that he’s worried Tommy’s been kidnapped (he’s too loud and stubborn for that), or like, murdered (would probably take the murderer down with him, to be honest), it’s that Tommy has a shit sense of direction, and a habit of making situations go from zero to like three thousand in two minutes flat. He’s going to be a mess when he gets back to Tubbo probably, and then Tubbo will personally throttle him, for Tommy daring to give him a heart attack. 

“What would he even be doing in an alleyway?” Ranboo asks, Niki giving him a look, because, really? That is not the question to be asking right now-

\---

Phil flies carefully above the town, careful to stay hidden in cold clouds, careful to move from roof to roof silently, as he trails his boys below, who are moving across the street, clearly busy in their goal. 

His first thought was to go check on Tommy, see how he’s doing, even if he barely knows the kid, but he has no idea where Tommy might even be. But Wilbur and Technoblade are on their way to figuring it out, seeming set on spending their time on tracking down the kid who saved Phil by chucking a plate at someone’s head. 

They go to the diner first, the one Phil had been at, and they ask around, Wilbur bright and chipper, always more advanced in getting information through polite chatting. Techno is more of an intimidation type of guy, and he sticks to Wilbur’s side awkwardly as Wilbur slowly feeds in questions, slowly gets a description of Tommy. Phil says sitting on the top of a building, wings stretched out behind him. 

They move out of the diner, to down the street, and they go from shop to shop, asking for anyone who might’ve spotted him, and Wilbur’s easily finding what he wants, oh, yes, blond kid, blue eyes? Maybe ran around here? Yeah, he’s a kid we’re babysitting, he kinda ran out from under us, man, teens, you know? Cue a strained polite laugh, Techno giving a judgmental look. Wilbur trying to elbow him without the person in front of them noticing. 

Techno seems bored through it, and Phil’s glad with the way of how easily they blend in with the crowd. Their faces aren’t as well known as Phil’s, and they don’t really go out of the castle publicly, which lets them walk around in broad daylight, with no one any the wiser that they’re the two princes of the empire around them. 

Phil moves from rooftop to rooftop, observing like a bird, almost, just watching, curious and amused as the two of them keep moving, tracking down where’s Tommy’s gone, until they finally get a last clue, Tommy having apparently gone off into an alley with a bunch of older kids, who dragged him around like he could be a new friend to tease. 

Phil jumps and flies to the top building beside the alleyway, kneeling and peering down, not being noticed as Tommy deals with three other annoying older teens trying to get a rise out of him. Phil frowns, while Wilbur and Techno hide at the end of the alley, behind a few barrels. 

“Tomathy, my best friend-” One of them say, wrapping an arm around Tommy, patting him on the head. 

“You are  _ not _ my best friend, stop it, I’m trying to-” Tommy chokes, as he tries to run, only getting yanked with an arm over his shoulders. “-fuck off!”

“Rude! But anyway, you’re funny!”

“Fantastic, I surely needed that input- hey, hey!” Phil itching to jump down as they start rummaging through Tommy’s pockets, snickering as Tommy swears at them. 

“What, what you got in here? You hiding drugs? Oooo, come on, you know I’m just joking- Oh, sweet.” One of the kids holds up a bag of what looks like cookies, maybe, Phil squinting down. 

“Literally!” One of the teens say, Tommy snapping as he pushes overly friendly arms off him, reaching out for the bag.

“That’s mine! Give it back!”

“Relax, it’s just cookies.” They respond, Tommy trying to reach for the bag, instead just getting a back turned to him, the bag getting held away from him. “What flavor are these?”

“Give me the fucking bag!”

“Chill, man, learn to share. Honestly-” Phil’s about two seconds from coming down there and giving them a piece of his mind, before the sound of a fist hitting a face sounds out, and someone screams, high pitched, Tommy socking the kid right across the face. 

“Bitch!” Tommy yells. “I said to give the fucking cookies _back_!” He yells again, and then emphasizes it with a kick into someone’s gut. The boys try to restrain Tommy, and someone gets hit across the face again, falling to the floor. It’s not Tommy, surprisingly.

Phil glances to Wilbur and Techno, who still hide with wide eyes. They look both concerned and absolutely intrigued, Wilbur more on the concerned side, Techno more being intrigued. Tommy kicks someone’s knee in.

\---

Phil ends up flying away as soon as it’s apparent that Tommy isn’t going to need much help, having been fueled with pure teenage rage, and he instead goes over to the local precinct, finding the head guard, who looks like they very much need a nap. 

“Your Grace.” Eret sighs, nodding their head to Phil. “Good to see you alive and well, after, well, you know.”

“I do know.” Phil grins. 

He wants to make sure Tommy’s alright, taken care of, but he doesn’t want to go and pull Tommy up to the castle by flight, he’ll overwhelm the kid, he’s already had an eventful morning, by the looks of it. 

“Do you think you can find the teen who stopped that assassin earlier?” He asks, Eret raising their eyebrows, nodding slowly. 

“Ah...uh, we’ve been trying.”

“Been?” 

“Well, he’s also more or less responsible for a whole street fight that happened last night, it’s a bit of a mess, he was here this morning, but he climbed out the window and, well, I guess ended up at the diner.” Eret pauses. “I guess it’s a good thing he did that, actually. But seriously, what is this kid  _ doing _ ?”

Phil shrugs, actually asking that himself. That explains the injuries, and the ‘last night’ Tommy mentioned. “Well, I’m saying put that aside, for him, and instead, when you find him, send him up to the castle for me.” 

Eret looks at Phil like he’s said gibberish, and they stay quiet, mouth stammering as they shift papers in their hands, before nodding. “Uh, sure. Can I ask why, though? If that’s alright, of course.”

Phil hums, then just shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. Eret doesn’t ask anymore questions after that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil, upon seeing Tommy start a whole fight: I'm gonna pardon this kid of anything he's ever done and gain another SON
> 
> lmao, anyway, I'm tired, I gonna slep, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading.


	6. Kicked Puppy kinda vibes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOHHH 
> 
> anyway, hi

  
  


After Tommy successfully had retrieved his cookies, he then went into a full on sprint down the street, ignoring the way his fists absolutely ached, and how his nose was now bleeding. 

A few people called out to him when he passed, obviously worried over a random kid with a bleeding nose just booking it down the street, but Tommy just ran faster, until he deemed that he was far enough for those teens to not follow, and he ducked into another alley, glad to see that it was just empty and cold, some snow piled up to the side, some side doors to the shops around him. 

A stray thought of maybe not going into another alleyway crosses his mind for a second, because with the current track record, he seems to just have bad luck in alleyways in general, but he’s not about to go in some random shop and gather attention over how he’s looking. 

Swiping the back of his hand against the top of his lip, Tommy decides that he can just stick here for a moment, just a few minutes, before anything else. Today has gone very much south, and he’s got no clue where he is, his hands hurt like hell, and also his cookies are all broken, now. 

He swiftly decides that the broken cookies are the worst part of today. 

Opening up the bag in his shaking hands, Tommy ignores the way he wants to lay down into the snow and groan in pain, and instead just shoves a half broken cookie into his mouth, chewing angrily. He wants to go home. He wants to see Tubbo, mostly, he’s sure that when he eventually finds his way back, he’s going to die to Tubbo squeezing him to death with a hug. 

He would do the same to Tubbo, of course, if it was the other way around, which is the only reason why he’s not exactly worrying over his unavoidable death, only eating another cookie, and wiping blood off his lip when he tastes crimson with the chocolate. 

Holding his hand to his nose, Tommy glances at the end of the alleyway, and moves to go further down, where it turns left into a dead end, some garbage bins stacked by the wall. Tommy frowns at the stone wall in his path, then decides to say fuck it all, and sits down in the snow, leaning his back against the wall. 

It’s freezing, and his hands shake from adrenaline, pain, and the chill that’s running through the air. The cape around his shoulders is a reminder of what also happened today, and while  _ that _ was fucking insane, Tommy’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, because sure, the emperor was cool as hell, but also his face is still rather bloody, and his knuckles just hurt. 

The bag crinkles in Tommy’s hand as he fiddles with it, opening it again and taking a small broken piece out, eating it with a sigh. This morning feels like it’s been too much, and Tommy remembers that it’s not even morning, it’s afternoon, and he eats another cookie. 

A lot of the cookies are just broken bits in the bag now, and it would annoy Tommy, but he’s far too riled up and out of fucks to give, so he just eats them and wishes that he could get back to somewhere he actually  _ knows _ . 

The rational part of his brain tells him to try and find an adult, get directions. It’s not a childish thing to do, to need help, this morning has been an absolute disaster, at this point, you really oughta get some sort of assistance before you get jumped a second time. 

Tommy notes that the rational part of his head sounds a lot like Tubbo, and there’s a small ache in his heart, as the adrenaline and anger finally starts to simmer down, and he pretends his eyes don’t burn and that his throat isn’t tight as he digs in the bag again for another cookie. 

He’s not crying. 

He isn’t, his hands just hurt. And he just kinda wants to go back to Tubbo. And wants to be somewhere that’s not so cold, preferably. 

Tommy sighs deeply, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them, just giving up and letting himself tear up, blinking the wetness out from his eyes. He’s very tired right now. Part of him wants to take a nap, but he knows he’s going to wake up cold as hell, and that would just be miserable. 

Picking at the end of the cape over his shoulders, Tommy notes the white design at the ends of it, intricate and beautiful. He wonders how much this thing  _ costs _ , and for a second he’s still in disbelief that him, of all people, is wearing the Emperor’s cloak. 

Well, if anything else, that did happen today. Tommy is pretty sure he’s going to end up getting stabbed later on, with his current luck, but at the very least, he’ll be able to brag to Tubbo about meeting the literal Emperor, and seeing his actual fucking wings, which, Tommy will silently admit, were so,  _ so _ cool. 

Tommy wonders about how he flies, how it must feel. He wishes he could do the same, actual wings might be useful right about now, flying back to Tubbo would be a breeze. Maybe some other day, but that’s not much of an option for him right now, unfortunately. 

Tubbo’s going to freak when he sees the cape, though. A  _ royal _ cape, god, Tommy is never letting this thing go. Maybe if he lets Tubbo wear it he  _ won’t _ get murdered the second he comes back. 

Or not, Tubbo might still be pissed. Overjoyed, very much so, but also Tommy is going to die at the ripe age of 15, just days before his birthday, at the hands of his best friend being in rage that Tommy had been graced with the bad luck of getting mugged. And then starting a street fight. And then running from the police precinct, through the window. And then being chased by guards, and then throwing a plate at a guy with a knife, who was trying to stab the literal Emperor-

Tommy pauses, realizing that he actually  _ saved _ the Emperor, doing that. Like, sure, maybe the guy would have gotten punched the second he got too close, but Tommy more or less stopped him from causing anything, by chucking a plate. 

Tommy takes it back, this is the best day ever, he saved the Emperor’s  _ life _ , Tubbo is going to fucking die when he hears about this. 

There’s the sound of voices out in the street, and Tommy tunes back into real life, sitting up. He twists the top of the bag in his hands, and gets to his feet, pushing against the wall and huffing at how he feels utterly exhausted. He needs a nap. He’s going to take a very long nap after this day is done. 

“Tommy?” Someone calls, and Tommy freezes, his hand in mid-air, stopping half-way from wiping at his eyes. There’s someone at the end of the street, and Tommy thinks he knows the voice, but it’s been an eventful day, he’s not that sure. “Hello?” 

Leaning against the wall with a quiet sigh, Tommy decides that if he’s getting mugged again, he’s just going to strangle the mugger, consequences be damned. He saved the Emperor, he’s having a bad day, maybe he can have a pardon for murder.

Pushing himself off the wall, Tommy stumbles over to the corner, leaning out and immediately locking eyes with Eret, who pauses in his steps, making a noise of surprise. 

Tommy stares at him with wide eyes, Eret staring back, and then Tommy turns around and tries to run. 

“Ah, hey, hold on!” Eret yells out, running after Tommy, turning the corner to just find Tommy standing with his back against the wall at the end of the alley, trying to make the most threatening face possible. 

It’s not as effective as he thinks, though, because he’s rubbing at his eyes to get the remains of tears off, there’s still dried blood under his nose, on the top of his lip, and he holds the bag of cookies in his hands like a lifeline.

He’s not intimidating, nowhere near it. He’s more looking like a kicked puppy, if anything, a very kicked, angry puppy, but Eret doesn’t voice his thoughts, only raises his hands out, like he’s trying to calm Tommy down. 

“Hey.” They say, Tommy frowning. 

“What do you want.” Tommy mutters, and he then shoves a cookie into his mouth, Eret resisting the urge to make a sound of pity. “I’m having a very busy day, lots of things goin on-” He says, a hand over his mouth as he chews. 

Eret smiles, and Tommy narrows his eyes, holding up a fist, the bag of cookies in his hand. 

“I just need you to come with me.” Eret says carefully, like Tommy might skitter away somehow if he says it too loud. He’s not entirely wrong. Tommy’s planning on getting past him and making another run for it as he speaks. 

“You’re going to arrest me for getting mugged?” Tommy asks incredulously, chewing at the last of his cookie, twisting the bag closed in his hands. There’s only two left, in the bag, and Tommy’s really doesn’t want to finish them before he can get back. 

“No, that’s-”

“Because that’s a bit fucked up, I’ll admit, I mean, look at me, I’m having a very bad day-”

Eret cuts him off, taking a deep breath in. “You’ve been summoned up to the castle.” 

Tommy pauses. Blinks at him, holding the bag of cookies close. 

“What.”

Eret grins, watching as the wary, hostile fire in Tommy’s posture bleeds away, replaced with shock. “The Emperor came by earlier, asking for you.” Tommy’s eyes go wide. 

“What.” Tommy chokes out, trying to take a step back, his back just pressing into the stone wall again. “What- why?” 

“You were at that incident at the diner earlier today, weren’t you?”

Tommy nods, slowly, realization dawning on him. “Holy fucking shit.” He breathes out. 

“Come with me. There’s already a carriage waiting for you.” 

Tommy looks even more baffled, eyes flicking around the alley like people are going to jump out and say that it’s an elaborate prank, he is actually getting arrested. But nothing happens, and Eret just leans back on their heels, waiting. 

“How do I know you’re not bullshitting me?” Tommy asks, Eret laughing. 

“Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you. It’s not every day the Emperor asks me to escort a kid up to the castle for him.” They take a step to the side, waving an arm out. “But if we can hurry up and go, now, because I’d really rather not make him wait.” 

Tommy feels like sitting down again and shoving more cookies into his mouth, but instead he nods, and walks forward on shaking legs, ignoring the way Eret keeps a light hand on his shoulder, and leads him down the street, where there are at least 5 other guards joining them, apparently all trying to look for Tommy. 

What the fuck.

\---

Once Tommy had gone sprinting down the street like death was on his heels, Wilbur and Techno were left to their own thoughts, staring at the kids who were mostly just complaining on the ground, beat up and tired. 

“So, hypothetically,” Techno starts, looking at the kids with an amused look. 

“Terrible idea.” Wilbur immediately says, looking at the kids as well, thinking of how they had been so pushy, before they get smacked across the face by Tommy, who’s apparently got one hell of a temper. “We are going to get extra grounded.” 

“I wasn’t going to try fighting them Wilbur, damn.” Techno grins, Wilbur raising his eyebrows. 

“Of course, you’re just going to scare the shit out of them.” 

Techno makes a face, frowning. “You say that like I shouldn’t do it.”

“I mean, of course not. We  _ definitely _ shouldn’t terrorize a bunch of teenagers who just got beat up by a child-” Wilbur waves to said teens on the floor, who are still in the alleyway, sulking and in pain. 

“I liked that, that was funny-” Techno grins, Wilbur holding back a snort.

“And I  _ definitely _ shouldn’t encourage you to go on right ahead, because that would be bad, and sometimes, I do need to be the voice of reason.” Wilbur finishes, leaning in to Techno with a hand over his heart. 

Techno blinks at him, giving an amused smile. “So?” He asks, Wilbur composing himself, leaning back on his heels and setting back his shoulders, as if he’s about to be responsible. 

“Eh, what the heck, come on.” 

“Yup, that’s what I thought.” 

“Blood for the blood god, channel your inner intimidation, Techno.” Wilbur whispers, the two of them walking into the alleyway, ready to put the fear of god into some teens for the heck of it. 

“That’s not hard.” Technoblade responds, smile going sharp, cracking his knuckles. 

\---

About twenty minutes later, they’re on their way back to the castle, having terrorized some teenagers by simply acting intimidating and saying more than a few slight threats. 

“We’re going to be extra grounded, now.” Wilbur notes, holding a hand out to the snow falling from the sky. The castle is rather far, but they’re having a nice walk, and when they get far enough, they’ll pay for a ride on horseback. 

“Why?” Techno asks, picking at the end of his braid, which hangs loosely over his shoulder. 

“Wha-  _ ‘why’ _ , Techno, I’m pretty sure one of those kids fucking cried.” 

“Eh, I didn’t say anything  _ that _ bad-”

“You threatened their entire family.” Wilbur deadpans.

“Did I? Or was that you?” 

“No, I threatened their non-existent half cousin.” 

Techno snorts, turning his head to the ground. Wilbur grins. 

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to worry about.” Techno waves a hand, Wilbur rolling his eyes. “I mean, we’re still going to get grounded-”

“Oh yeah, definitely-” 

\---

Tommy wakes up to an abrupt stop, finding that he's sitting in a comfy seat, voices talking loudly from outside. He looks up to see the inside of a small carriage, simple and neat, and everything catches back up to him as he blinks the sleep out his eyes. 

Right, Eret, the Emperor, the goddamn actual carriage, for Tommy. 

“You got to be fucking kidding me.” Tommy had said, upon seeing said carriage, back at the town. 

“Dead serious.” Eret only responded, with a grin, pushing Tommy along. 

Tommy sits up in the seat, hand digging into his pocket to pull out the bag of cookies, and he debates on grabbing one now, but holds himself off, instead choosing to just hold the bag in his hands as he peeks out the window, catching a glimpse of the huge gates of the castle. 

He knows it’s the castle gates, not from the giant doors, and the guards placed outside, but the flowers that are scattered around on the ground, to the side, colorful and bright. It’s not nearly as much as when the war happened, Tommy’s been told, but there’s still a few, still enough to tell that there’s a crowd who keeps up with this small type of tradition. 

There’s a small sense of panic that creeps into Tommy’s heart, and Tommy scoots back in his seat, trying to take deep breaths. This is totally fine. This is a perfectly normal morning. He’s just getting taken to go see the Emperor, not a big deal. 

Oh, he feels like puking. 

Taking a deep breath in and ignoring the way his heart pounds in his throat, Tommy wipes a hand across his face, hoping that he looks at least a little presentable. Maybe the emperor won’t be that upset over Tommy coming here looking like absolute garbage. 

Although, thinking back to first meeting Phil, maybe he’ll be more worried if anything. He seems like a caring guy. 

The carriage stops again, this time within the walls, and Tommy shifts in his seat, hands curling around the bag in his hand, and he really wishes that Tubbo was here with him right now. He would probably know about this, Tubbo tends to know the strangest information for no reason. He would probably know royal manners and shit. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Tommy turns his head to it, telling himself that he did not jolt, no, he did not. (He did.)

The door opens up and Tommy leans in his seat to see Eret, who gives a bright smile. There’s a gust of cold air that comes in with the door being opened, and Tommy might’ve been a bit chilled before, but now he’s  _ cold _ . It’s like the temperature has gotten sharper, up here, and he guesses it makes sense, with the castle being up higher. 

“Are we here?” Tommy asks, even though he already knows the answer, but he just wants Eret to tell him something, preferably tell him what to do. It dawns on Tommy that he still isn’t entirely sure why he’s been called up here. 

“Yup.” Eret nods, and he waves a hand for Tommy to come out. Tommy gets up, climbing out the door, ignoring the way Eret holds out a hand to help, and instead goes down small stairs, his feet hitting the light layer of snow on the stone ground. 

It’s freezing, and Tommy wraps his arms around himself, looking around, seeing scattered guards at their posts, a few around him, apparently as escorts, he would assume. 

“Here, come on, let’s hurry and get inside.” Eret suggests, pushing Tommy on the back, and Tommy stumbles forward, nodding. He looks straight ahead as they start to walk, and he looks to the castle before him, head craning upwards as he stares in awe at the tall structure of it all. 

It’s not something Tommy thought he would ever be near, let alone inside, and he offhandedly wonders just how cold it is, all the way at the top.

There’s a few voices, and Tommy lowers his head back down, eyes going wide as he sees Phil coming towards him from the front doors, seeming to want to meet them halfway. There’s a few guards following at his tail, and they struggle to keep up as Phil speedwalks along, waving a hand in greeting. 

Eret and his group stop, and Tommy stops behind Eret, taking the smallest step as to hide himself, trying to compose his interal yelling, because holy fuck, holy  _ fuck _ , Tommy is literallly on the royal grounds and the Emperor is  _ right _ fucking there-

“Your Grace.” Eret greets, giving a small bow, and Tommy scrambles to copy. “We were just about to head inside.”

“Oh, I know, I just wanted to meet you guys out here.” Phil grins, and he talks like he’s speaking to a good friend, and Tommy wonders if he’s always this friendly. “I was just relieved you had found him.” 

Phil leans to the side, looking to Tommy, who stares at the ground in a panic, trying to use Eret as a shield. Eret steps to the side though, so it ends up being useless, and then Tommy just panics. 

He takes a hesitant step forward, at Eret’s nod, and Phil pauses, blinking at Tommy, who’s giving a so-so bow to Phil, dried blood still on his face, hands bruised and battered. There’s still the bag of cookies clutched in his hands, and there’s still Phil’s cape over his shoulders. Tommy’s shaking, and he can’t tell if it’s from nerves or from the cold. 

Phil takes one look at him, then turns to his guard, smiling politely. “Push back all my meetings for today.” 

“Ah- Your Grace?” The guard falters, eyes flicking to Tommy for a second. 

“And tell that I am to be left alone, as well, for all of today.” Phil nods, speaking quietly. Tommy looks at him nervously, before keeping his eyes on his shoes. “I’ll be preoccupied.”

“Of course.” They respond, and they go on their way, Phil turning to Tommy. 

“Tommy.” Phil says as a greeting, smiling warmly. “Good to see you again.” 

“Your Grace.” Tommy mumbles, picking at the bag in his hands. 

“Eh, call me Phil, mate, you don’t need to be formal.” Phil shrugs, Tommy nodding once, sharp. 

“Phil.” Tommy repeats, and he still looks so terribly nervous, like he’s about to pass out on the ground right there. He looks overjoyed too, though, a smile pulling at his lips, and Phil grins, before looking over Tommy and deciding that he does really need some healing potions. And a better coat, from the way he’s shivering. Maybe better shoes?

“Uhm, I-” Tommy starts, pausing. “Hello.” 

“Hello. How are you?” Phil asks, deciding to start off with something easy, just to break the ice.

“Could be better.” Tommy admits, shrugging. “It’s been a long morning, or, afternoon.” 

“It looks like it has.” Phil agrees, humming. “Why don’t we get inside? We can have a medic check you over, for those hands.” 

Tommy glances down at his hands, like he forgot that they were so bruised, and nods again, smiling wide. “Yeah, sure, that’d be nice.”

Phil smiles, stepping to the side. “Come along.” And Tommy goes along, Phil holding a wing out behind Tommy and leading him to the castle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy: Oh my god I'm gonna make a fool of myself, I look like a mess, this is going to go terribly
> 
> Phil, the second he sees Tommy: Yup, this is the one, new son 
> 
> I was on break for a little while, but now I'm back! Hello. Time to brainrot over family dynamics.
> 
> And also I see y'all theorizing who the teens where. If you wanna think of them as the Dream team, oh you may. They don't got much plot significance, tbh.
> 
> But ye, thank you for reading. I'm tired, woe


	7. Tommy in castle go br listen I dont got the time nor fucks to give on this chapter title, you know what it's about, it's about dadza and Tommy vibing and being WHOLESOME

  
  


The first thing Tommy really notices about the castle is the sheer  _ size _ of it. 

Tommy will admit, he hasn’t been to many places in the kingdom. Him and Tubbo, while they were fairly chaotic and liked to run around town, never strayed too far, and after the fourth time Tommy got them both terribly lost in unfamiliar streets, Tubbo refused to walk too far from the plaza ever again. 

That’s part of the reason why Tommy did not have a single clue on how to get back home. That, and he has an absolute shit sense of direction. Usually luck was on his side when he was lost, but now he’s farther from his town than he’s ever been before, and he probably couldn’t find his way back on his own even if he tried. 

A cold pang of shock, and then utter doom hits him in the heart as he realizes this is the farthest he’s ever been from Tubbo, before, and he remembers that it’s far past the time that he’s supposed to be at the bakery already. He has no doubt that Tubbo’s ran off to the orphanage to find Tommy, only to turn up with nothing. 

Tommy realizes with a feeling of ‘oh fuck’ that he’s absolutely entirely  _ dead _ the second he gets back to Tubbo. They’ll both be overjoyed, no doubt, Tommy can’t wait to see Tubbo again, but now his days are very numbered, and at the very least, he’ll go down with a cool story of meeting the emperor. He’s already accepting his fate, he had a cool life, it was good while it lasted.

Phil notices Tommy’s slight face of panic and grim resignation, turning his head to the teen, and Tommy just gives an awkward smile, trying to seem as confident as possible, even with the multiple alarms going off in his head. He’s fairly sure that if Tubbo and him could talk telepathically, Tubbo would be shouting out his eardrums on where the hell Tommy has gone. Oh, he doesn’t want to think about the whole lecture Tubbo’s going to give him when he gets back. 

“You alright, mate?” Phil asks, Tommy clearing his throat, nodding frantically. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He waves a hand, feeling a wing brush against his back, and he screams internally, but this time in a good way, freaking out because holy fuck, the emeperor has  _ wings,  _ actual out in the open ones, and that’s so goddamn  _ cool _ . His whole head is just a lot of screaming, really, but Tommy will go on to think that he is being the absolute image of confidence. He’s not. “Eventful morning. Or, afternoon. Day. Busy day, I’ve had a very busy day.” 

“I would think so.” Phil grins, huffing, and Tommy can’t help the way his eyes flick up to the crown on Phil’s head, biting back his tongue so he won’t do something stupid, like swear very loudly in front of the emperor. 

The front doors of the castle are massive, towering over Tommy’s head, and as they go inside, he’s immediately pleased to find that it’s actually warm, a drastic difference from the amount of snow outside, the biting wind that went right through him. 

There are guards at the sides of the door as they walk through, and Tommy stares with wide eyes at the weapons in their hands, at the armor they wear, and Phil gently pushes him along when his steps falter. 

“They’re just there for protection.” Phil says, Tommy nodding, eyes wandering around the hallway as they go down, blinking at the fancy lights that hang overhead. He feels very out of place, with the way Phil beside him is dressed in royal, clean clothes, prim and neat, and Tommy is, well, a mess, really. 

“Protection from what?” Tommy asks. 

“Oh, you know. Assasination attempts.” He says, like he’s talking about the weather, and Tommy chokes back a laugh. Probably shouldn’t laugh at the prospect of the emperor getting murdered. That’s probably bad, he thinks. 

“You have those often?” Tommy continues, in the same casual tone Phil holds, and Phil grins wide. 

“So far, just four this year.” Phil responds, and his tone makes it sound like there’s an inside joke that Tommy doesn’t get. “Counting the one earlier today.” 

Tommy looks at Phil out of the corner of his eye as the hallway opens up to a large room, two large staircases leading up to the next floor. There’s a tall painting hanging up on the wall, at the top of the staircases, visible from over the railing. 

It’s a picture of the royal family, Tommy realizes, as they near the stairs, and he can’t help but stare in fascination and awe, taking in the absolute awesomeness of these people just having a whole ass painting of themselves looking royal and fancy as hell. 

The painting shows Phil sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other as he smiles kindly, a golden crown on his head and light blue layers over his shoulders. Two people stand at each side of him, nearly leaning against Phil. They’re unfamiliar to Tommy but dressed similarly, in a way that gives him no doubt that they got to be royalty too, and Tommy promptly remembers that the emperor has sons. 

At least he thinks he does. He’s fairly sure Tubbo’s told him about that before, the princes in the castle. They don’t go out much, though, or at least that's what Tommy is sure of. 

“That’s an old painting.” Phil says, Tommy snapping his attention away from Phil, only to see Phil staring at the same picture, looking fond. “It’s years old at this point, we really oughta have it redone.” 

Phil leads them both up the staircase, and Tommy sticks right to his side, not wanting to somehow find a way to step onto Phil’s cape, or shoes, or even worse, his wings. His luck has been generally terrible today, Tommy’s pretty sure he could manage to find a way to step on Phil’s wings. 

They walk up to the picture on the wall, and Tommy realizes it's as big as he thought it was, probably nearly as tall as him, and he stares at Phil’s face depicted there, before glancing at the actual Phil beside him. 

“Those are the princes, right?” Tommy asks, pointing a finger to Techno, Phil looking away with raised eyebrows. 

“Yup. They’re my only sons, grew up with the empire.” Phil says, Tommy looking again at the two of them, at the way Techno’s bright pink hair stands out, and how Wilbur smiles just barely in a way that’s subtle. 

They all look drastically different from each other, Tommy thinks, save for the matching blue colors they all wear, and the crowns on their heads. Phil has a gold one, in this picture, and Wilbur and Techno wear matching silver ones, not entirely noticeable. 

“That’s Technoblade. He’s a bit quiet, although one hell of a fighter, for sure. He enjoys sparring as a hobby, and he’s quite good at it.” Phil starts, pride in his voice. 

“Bet I could beat him.” Tommy says without thinking, snapping his mouth shut and pursing his lips as he screams internally. 

Phil just laughs, thankfully, Tommy brushing off the slight panic of saying something that might get him thrown out of the castle, because at this point in the day, he really wouldn’t be surprised. 

“He’s more a sword person, although I don’t think you’d do well against him with just your fists either, mate.” Phil says, Tommy feeling a surge of confidence in his chest at the way Phil smiles at him, and he raises his battered fists, grinning. 

“You never know.” Tommy answers, and he would definitely take on this Technoblade dude, no hesitation. Even if he’s the prince or something. “What about the other one?” He asks, nodding his head to Wilbur. 

“Wilbur.” Phil says the name so fondly, and Tommy glances to the face on the wall again, wondering. 

“I could beat him too.” Tommy nods, sticking with his burst of confidence, even if it’ll end badly, because he’s cool. He’ll be cool, and maybe telling the emperor he can totally beat his sons in a fight is not the best way to be cool, but he’ll roll with it. 

Phil just snickers. “He’s not much of a fighter, but he can hold his own against Technoblade, and believe me, just that much is enough to wipe the floor with you.” 

Tommy frowns, Phil smiling. “They can’t be that good.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Phil turns his head to the painting, Tommy looking with him. “They’re twins, did you know?”

“What?!” Tommy yells, taking a step back. “They look nothing alike!”

Phil doesn’t seem to mind the way Tommy’s gone loud, and only goes to point at Techno’s face. “No, they have similar faces, look, see, their noses-”

“His hair is pink.” Tommy deadpans. 

“Wilbur’s is too, actually. He only dyes it like that.” Phil shrugs, and Tommy makes a face at the picture, perplexed, because he thought it was the other way around, Techno dying  _ his _ hair pink, rather than the both of them having naturally  _ pink _ hair. “But, no, look at their faces, they still look similar.” 

Tommy squints at the two of them, humming. “I guess so. Kinda.” He tilts his head. The different angle doesn’t help.

“I see it.” Phil protests, looking at the two of them with a face Tommy can’t put his finger on. He sounds so sure of it, and Tommy looks at them again, at the way they look so drastically different, and he guesses their faces do look almost similar, if he focuses on it. He wonders if they tried hard enough, they could switch identities. 

“Come on, you should probably get cleaned up.” Phil says, bringing Tommy out of his thought process, and he goes to walk to the left, down the hall of the second floor, waiting for a second for Tommy to stand beside him again before walking. “I wanted to thank you again, for earlier, at the diner.” 

“Is that why I got called up here?” Tommy asks, Phil shrugging a shoulder. 

“Sorta.” He says slowly, looking ahead. “Question.”

“Hm?”

“Any guardians I should be contacting right now? You did say you didn’t have parents, which, well, I’m sorry for that, but do you have an aunt or something that I could send a message to? I bet they’d be glad to know where you are, after you’ve apparently ran around town getting into fights.” 

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second, and he decides that he absolutely  _ cannot _ tell Phil about the fact he literally lives in an orphanage. He’s already probably getting pitied from the way he looks beat up from the chaos of today, and from the way he holds Tubbo’s cookies in his hands, and he does not want pity from the literal Emperor. What does that turn him into, then? A charity case? Would Phil then make a sad face and give him money because Tommy’s a sad orphan who got dropped off at doorstep in the middle of war?

Oh, god, fuck that. 

One thing Tommy knows he would absolutely hate is getting pitied, and only getting kindness out of  _ pity _ . That would just invalidate this entire meeting, and Tommy can and will walk out of this castle, consequences be damned, if the emperor has only brought Tommy to look nice. 

Part of him knows Phil’s kindness is genuine, and it’s not out of pity but rather compassion, and a sort of thankfulness from Tommy literally saving his life. Another part of him tells him that this might be a whole trick, and it’s going to go up in flames. That might be just the general attitude from the past 24 hours talking though.

“I hope you don’t get into fights this often.” Phil continues, Tommy pushing his thoughts away. “Surely this is just an unusually eventful day?”

“Yeah, more or less. Way too much has happened today, and to be fair, the guys I punched deserved it.” Tommy holds a fist up, Phil glancing down to the cookies held in his other hand. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” He nods. “But also, your guardians? Is there anyone watching over you?” They pause in their steps, and Phil turns to stand in front of Tommy, eyes curious. “You’re not actually on your own, are you?”

“No!” Tommy says, a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m, uhhh...living with my aunt.” 

“Oh.” Phil blinks, quiet for a moment, and Tommy feels like he’s said something wrong, somehow, but then his face shifts into something almost skeptical, and Tommy becomes more worried about being called out in his lie. “Well, that’s comforting. But then, shouldn’t you be home rather than running around town?”

“I have a curfew and shit.” Tommy shrugs, then stumbles on his words. “Ah- sorry.” He says, for the swearing, and he’s honestly not, sorry it’s just that the last thing he wants is to be  _ rude _ .

“Curfew and shit, huh?” Phil just repeats, with a raised eyebrow and an amused face. He looks at Tommy with something in his eyes, thoughts running through his head, and Tommy nods. “Hm. I’ll talk to your aunt later. Come on. We keep stalling.” 

Tommy ignores the slight panic in his chest and just nods, walking along. 

\---

“So, you know your lines.” Wilbur says, Techno fiddling with a ring on his finger, raising his eyes to Wilbur with a face. 

“What lines?”

“Wha-  _ Technoblade _ . We are going to get so fucking grounded-”

“That still doesn’t explain my ‘lines.” 

Wilbur huffs out a sigh, glancing down the hall to where the two of them are making their way to the dining room, to go see Phil after they’ve returned from basically running out of the castle to ditch class. He didn’t think they would be late enough to the point of coming back just in time to be slightly late for dinner, but they got distracted, and also they found a cool shop with little snacks, and Techno kept poking around, so-

They’re late, that’s the point here. 

“We appeal to Phil’s sympathetic nature by saying we were looking out for him, going to check out who saved him, you know, curiosity sake.”

“That kid was vicious.” Techno snickers, Wilbur holding back a snort. “All for what, cookies?”

“Yes, yes, the kid’s not important, we literally ditched class.”

“So? I’ll just blame you for dragging me away from my studies.” 

“I did not drag you away from anything, you motherfucker, half of this was your idea-”

“That’s not what I remember.” Techno grins, Wilbur punching him in the arm. “You’re the one who wanted to go see the random kid who saved Phil-”

“No,  _ you _ were the one who was curious on a random kid who took down an assassin by chucking a plate at his head-”

“Well,  _ you _ were the one who asked around to look for him-” Techno points out. 

“You were the one who went to terrorize the teens after they got beat up by him-” Wilbur counters.

“Okay,  _ sure _ , but you-”

“No, no, just-” Wilbur waves his hands, the two of them pausing in front of the doors that lead to the dining room. “Forget about the kid. He’s not important, what’s important, is that we’re going to be in trouble when I open this door.” 

“Hm.” Techno makes a face, then pushes against the door, Wilbur pushing as well, opening it to find the familiarity of the dining room, the large table that they’ve always sat down at, plenty of food ready, Phil sitting at the end of the table, in his usual chair. 

Except, on the other side of him, opposite to where Techno and Wilbur usually sit, there’s a new face, and Wilbur and Technoblade freeze in the doorway as two heads turn to him, one looking rather familiar. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, and it’s more passive-aggressive than anything, but Wilbur brushes it off in favor of him and Techno staring at Tommy, who sits at the table, poking at food in his plate, staring right back. “We have a guest.” 

“Oh, I’m totally pinning the blame for this one on you.” Technoblade whispers, leaning into Wilbur. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Wilbur mumbles back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy: Oh no he's going to Pity me because I don't got a fucking parent
> 
> Phil: I swear if he doesn't actually have any sort of parent I'm taking him
> 
> kinda short chapter for today :,) but ey update!!!
> 
> I'm tired haha


	8. Family habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows kiss* for the people who love family dynamics
> 
> (I, too, love family dynamics, as you can see)

  
  


Tommy might’ve been in shock for the first hour or so of being at the castle, which is why he didn’t notice everything about the absolute ridiculousness of his situation, and was able to roll with it. It hadn’t yet sunk in entirely of how he was in the literal royal castle and how he was _entirely_ out of place. 

Phil had walked them along through the hallways, and Tommy could only stare in fascination on how the halls were so long, how far they went. There had to be hundreds upon hundreds of doors they passed, and every few they passed had guards beside them, standing still. Even with how much Phil walked across the halls, they never went too far without seeing at least one person in light armor. 

Which, he guesses makes sense, with Phil nearly getting stabbed this morning. Or is this just how security always is? 

Either way, the guards provide a familiar sight, and Tommy tilts his head back to see lights hanging from the high ceilings, glances down at the nice flooring under his feet, and it still doesn’t quite sink in. 

Phil walks them over to a nice room, with empty beds lined up against the wall, a table to the side that has books and bottles scattered around, and a woman with puffy hair greeting them with a bright smile. 

Tommy gets a new shirt that’s softer than anything he’s ever owned, bandages wrapped tightly his hands, and a literal _potion_ , which he’s only seen like three times in his life before, he doesn’t have the money for this kinda stuff, and yet it still doesn’t quite sink in. 

It’s only when he’s sitting on one of the beds, sipping at a potion that tingles in his mouth and he tunes out of the conversation next to him is when it sorta partially sinks in, and he chokes on the potion. 

He gets hands patting him on the back, and Phil asking him if he’s alright, and Tommy has to nod and struggle to not just panic at the fact that this is actually his life right now. 

\----

If it weren’t for the fact Ranboo was able to physically restrain Tubbo from leaving the bakery, he would’ve left and been on the streets until it got too cold to walk. 

Niki had gone to ask questions at the orphanage, (and to grill them for losing a child under their care, not noticing Tommy was gone until Tubbo showed up) and she asked for Tubbo to calm down, and stay home with Ranboo while she did. 

And so Tubbo stayed, crying, mostly, Ranboo frantically just trying to offer all the muffins and cakes they had on display to see if it would help, and Tubbo will admit, after a glass of milk and a cake slice, the situation was better. Not good, no way, but definitely better. 

He was still moping on the counter even after the cake, legs hanging off the edge with a plate awfully close to the edge beside him as he stared at his shoes. He had stopped crying, at least, after a good half hour, and that made Ranboo stop panicking, only for him to panic again over how silent Tubbo was, head tilted down. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.” Tubbo blinked, Ranboo halfway through reaching for another muffin. 

Ranboo just slid closed the display case very slowly, three new muffins in his hand as he walked over to Tubbo. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Tubbo huffs, looking up from his shoes and shaking his head. “I’ve done everything with Tommy for like my entire life! Sure, there’s been some times where we weren’t _together_ , just for a bit, but it’s never been like this. Where I actually can’t get back to him.” 

“Oh, Tubbo…” Ranboo trails off, putting the treats down next to Tubbo on the counter. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

“Of course he’ll be back.” Tubbo nods, sounding too sure for any other possibility, pushing the plate beside him so it’s not so close to the edge. “But it’s still weird, you know? I’ve never been...without him, is all.”

Ranboo adjusts the mask on his face with tense shoulders, giving a careful pat onto Tubbo’s back. “It’ll be okay. I mean, I’m sure he won’t be gone for too long.”

“But where would he even _be_?” Tubbo asks, leaning forward, resting his palms onto the edge of the counter. “We’ve been to the plaza and back millions of times, he wouldn’t get lost.” 

“Maybe he just took a wrong turn?” Ranboo shrugs, holding a muffin up to Tubbo. 

Tubbo takes it, holding it in his hands as he still stares off, thinking. “But even then, he surely wouldn’t have gone _far_ , would he? Unless he did get kidnapped.” 

“Ah, well-” Ranboo waves his hands, a quiet warbling sound coming from him. “Let’s, let’s not get into the worst outcomes.”

“Well, he couldn’t have gotten murdered.” Tubbo raises his eyebrows, saying it like Tommy getting hurt is a stupid idea.

“He couldn’t have?” Ranboo ends up asking, backtracking right after. “No, no, of course not! He’s alive, he’s okay-”

“Ranboo, I have lived with Tommy my whole life.” Tubbo holds the muffin up into Ranboo’s face, Ranboo blinking at him. “I know for a fact he can not get murdered.” 

Ranboo just stares at him, and he nods at Tubbo’s tone, Tubbo nodding slowly back, before taking a bite of the muffin. 

“So he probably got lost.” Tubbo shrugs, looking out the window of the bakery, out into the plaza that’s now a bit more busy, with the time passing. The sign at the door tells that the bakery is closed, and it keeps from any customers entering. 

“I’m sure they’ll find him. They’ll probably send people out, to you know, search-”

“Oh, but that’ll take so long!” Tubbo whines, tilting his head back, Ranboo jolting at his sudden outburst, trying to say something, having it come it garbled as Tubbo goes on. “What if they take too long? Our birthday is coming up!”

“Well, maybe they’ll find him on your birthday! That would be a nice birthday gift.” Ranboo says, holding a finger up. 

“No, other people are going to take forever.” Tubbo frowns, staring at the door. “I’ll do it myself.” He declares, and then hops off the counter, leaving a half eaten muffin behind. 

“Wait, what.” Ranboo asks, then goes to run around the counter to the front door, just barely getting in Tubbo’s way as he’s about to leave. “No, no! Niki said to wait-”

“Niki will understand, Ranboo, I’m going to search for Tommy.” Tubbo waves a hand, then goes to try and step around him. 

“Okay, but, I think it’s safer if you just stay here, and chill, while we wait for Tommy to be found.”

“That’s going to take too long!” 

“Well, you can’t just go running around to try and find him! You’ll probably get lost too!”

“Well, you can just help me. We can go look around together.” Tubbo nods, smiling. 

Ranboo just stares at him nervously, a warbling coming from him as he hesitates, and for a second, Tubbo thinks he might actually be considering it, but then- “Niki said-”

“UHHHGG.” Tubbo almost stomps onto the ground, taking a few steps back. “Well, when is she going to get here?”

“Uh.” Ranboo falters, trying to remember how long Niki said she would be. Or did she even say what time she might come back? Wait, was she going to stop by anywhere on the way back? “You know what, why don’t we just have some cake-”

Tubbo sighs, crossing his arms, then goes into a sprint, trying to go for the door, sliding under Ranboo’s legs. Ranboo shrieks, nearly falling over before realizing that Tubbo is grabbing at the handle of the door, right about to run to where he’ll surely lose him, and-

He picks him up. 

“Wha-!” Tubbo kicks his legs, his feet now no longer on the ground, like they should be. Ranboo just awkwardly rises him up higher, holding him away so Tubbo’s swinging legs won’t hit him. “Ranboo!”

“Tubbo!” Ranboo chimes, laughing nervously, Tubbo swinging his legs even more aggressively, as Ranboo just takes small steps away from the door. 

Tubbo turns his head behind him, glaring at Ranboo, who turns his eyes to the ceiling. “Put. Me. Down.” 

“No.” Ranboo responds, and then walks away from the front door. “Let’s go to the kitchen, actually-”

“No, you-!” Tubbo swipes his hand at Ranboo’s arm, kicking his leg out again, twisting around and trying to be difficult as possible. 

“Listen, Niki said- okay, please stop kicking, you’re going to- OW-” Ranboo nearly drops Tubbo right onto the ground, only shifting his grip instead, trying to hold Tubbo farther away from him. “Did you just _bite_ me?!” 

Tubbo doesn’t answer, only holds his arms out to sweet freedom, the front door that stays out of his grasp, still struggling like an uncontrollable force of nature, and Ranboo wonders if he would even be able to find Tubbo if he got outside. 

No, probably not, he’d lose the kid the second he goes out the door, and Ranboo cannot risk that. Who knows who Niki would react, she’s probably already worried about Tommy suddenly going gone. If Tubbo went missing too, it would go terribly, and Ranboo has no clue on how he would fix that, because when Niki cries, he cries, and that’s just inconvenient all around-

His yanked out of his thoughts at realizing Tubbo’s gone limp in his hands, and there’s a quiet sniffle that reaches his ears, immediately sending Ranboo into a panic.

“Wait, wait, wait, no, no-” Ranboo stammers, a warble coming from his throat as he rushes to put Tubbo down on the counter, only panicking even more when he sees the actual tears going down Tubbo’s face. “It’ll be okay! We’ll find him!”

Tubbo looks up at him, sniffling again, and Ranboo tries to convey a smile through the mask on his face.

“I know you’re worried, but you said it yourself, he’s probably fine! I bet right now, he’s trying to find a way to get back to you, or- uh, at the very least, is somewhere safe. And, and! Just think about when you finally get to see him again! Look forward to that, yeah?” Ranboo nods, raising a hand up, carefully putting it onto Tubbo’s shoulder. 

Tubbo stares at him with a pout, blinking tears out of his eyes, and his head falls forward as he sobs. 

“Oh, no, no-” Ranboo leans down to Tubbo’s level, digging for a napkin or cloth in the pockets of the apron tied around his waist. He finds a napkin, and carefully tries to rub at Tubbo’s face, glad to not have Tubbo push him away. “It’s alright, that’s alright. You can cry. But just know it’ll be okay.” 

“Will it?” Tubbo asks, voice wavering. “I just want to see him.”

“You will! You will.” Ranboo nods, tilting Tubbo’s chin up, dabbing the napkin at his cheek. “It will be okay.”

He really hopes it will be, because he’s got no clue what he’s going to do if it isn’t. He does not have a plan B for that sorta thing. 

Tubbo huffs, biting the inside of his cheek. He knows Tommy is alright. Has to be, really, if he wasn’t, Tubbo can and will learn necromancy for the sole purpose of raising Tommy from the dead, killing him again, and then bringing back a second time for a hug. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that Tubbo still feels awfully out of place, suddenly not having him here, and he’s confused as to what he even does now. He wants to go search for Tommy, wants to run across the streets until night falls and his throat is sore from yelling, but at the same time he knows that Tommy will end up back at his side without him doing anything. 

But it’s still annoying. 

“He better be back in time for our birthday.” Tubbo mumbles, Ranboo laughing. “I swear, if he isn’t.”

“Ah, I’m sure he’ll get back before then.” Ranboo huffs, holding the napkin out to Tubbo, who takes it from him, rubbing at his own face to properly dry it. “It’ll be alright. In the meantime, hey, we can start thinking about a birthday cake? You could surprise him when he gets back!” 

“Surprise him by smashing it into his face, maybe.” Tubbo shrugs, Ranboo choking on a laugh. 

“ _Oh-_ Pfft-” 

Tubbo laughs with him, shaking his head, staring down at his shoes again, and he looks up to Ranboo, who adjusts his mask over his nose, blinking back down at Tubbo, before flicking his eyes to the side. 

“What’s under your mask?” Tubbo asks, holding the damp napkin tightly in his palms, narrowing his eyes. 

“Huh-” Ranboo falters, than waves a hand. “Eh, my face.”

“Can I see?” Tubbo asks, raising his eyebrows, Ranboo humming, unsure. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that one-”

“But Ranboo.” 

“I mean, you just stopped crying, maybe we can-”

“But _Ranboo_.” 

“Bake a cake or something, I know there’s this one recipe that I’m good at-” 

“Why won’t you let me see your face?” Tubbo asks, frowning. “You’re very nice to me, letting me eat things on display, trying to comfort me awkwardly, giving me this napkin-”

“I mean, that’s just basic kindness, Tubbo.” Ranboo mutters. 

“But you won’t show me your actual face?” Tubbo finishes, frowning even more intensely. “Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you!” Ranboo stammers, a warble coming from him. “I do, really! You’re a good friend, or family, I guess-” He mumbles for a moment. “And I’m sure I’ll trust you even more with time, but it’s not that.”

“Are you just so handsome that you’ll blind me if I see you.” Tubbo deadpans, Ranboo choking on a snort. 

“Pfft- Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s totally it.” He nods, grabbing the half eaten muffin from beside Tubbo, holding it out to him. “It’s just, I don’t want to freak you out so early.”

“What, because you’re a hybrid person or something like that?” Tubbo asks, taking the muffin, just holding it. “Ranboo, I really don’t care. We’re friends.” He hesitates. “Family.” 

There’s a moment of silence between them, and then they both lower their heads, mumbling. 

“Yeah, I’m not used to that-”

“Oh, that’s too much for me-”

“I’m gonna cry again-” Tubbo hits his palm to his face, Ranboo snapping his head up. 

“Ah, no, nope!” He holds his hands out, Tubbo sniffling. “It’s alright! I, uh-”

Tubbo gets an idea. “If you don’t show me what’s under your mask, I’ll cry.” 

“You’ll WHAT-”

He sniffles again, letting tears sit at the edge of his eyes, glaring tearfully at Ranboo as he goes into a panic.

“No, no, no, wait, that’s not fair- Hey, no, don’t cry- Wait, that’s sad- Stop it!” 

He tries to look even more near tears. 

“Okay, okay, fine!” Ranboo says, grabbing the napkin from Tubbo’s hands, slapping it into his face. “I _can_ show you, I just-” He stops.

Tubbo wipes at his eyes, waiting. “What?”

Ranboo takes a deep breath in, holding his hands together in front of him. “I just-” 

“Just, what?”

Tubbo hears a warbling sound, before he speaks again. “I just...don’t want to scare you.” He finishes lamely. 

Tubbo blinks at him, making an unimpressed face. “Really.”

“It’s a valid concern! I’ve had little kids cry at me before!”

“Well, I’m not going to cry!” Tubbo insists, crossing his arms. “Again.” He tacks on. 

Ranboo still doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I still think we should bake a cake.” 

“Ranboooo.” 

“Agh, fine.” Ranboo huffs, reaching up to his mask, pulling the strap off from behind his ears, and after a moment, Tubbo can only blink and stare, because,

It honestly looks so cool. 

Ranboo’s mouth crosses his face, slightly jagged lines up his cheeks in a way that suggest that he can literally unhinge his jaw, and Tubbo can only say-

“You really are like an enderman!” 

Ranboo sighs, either in relief or amusement, and he nods. “Uh, yeah! Sometimes. My mouth kinda...freaks people out sometimes, so I just wear a mask to cover it whenever I’m out so I don’t spook anyone.” 

“Aw, but that’s not fair to you, man.” Tubbo frowns. “Doesn’t it get annoying?”

“Not really.” Ranboo shrugs. “I mean, kinda, but it’s better than getting weird looks.”

“Here, I’ll make a deal.” Tubbo declares, holding out a hand, Ranboo taking it without thinking, then making wide eyes as he slightly regrets his decision in the way Tubbo holds on tightly. “You don’t wear your mask for all of today, and I won’t try and run out to go find Tommy on my own. We don’t even have to go anywhere! Just put the mask away for today, and we can make a cake.”

“Hmm.” Ranboo turns it over in his head, already shaking Tubbo’s hand even though he’s still considering. “You really don’t think I look weird.”

“I think it’s cool.” Tubbo shrugs, and Ranboo blinks at him, a warble coming from his throat before he takes his hand away. 

“Okay.” He chokes out. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah! Let’s make a cake!”

“Yeah!”

\---

They end up setting the oven on fire. Luckily, Niki gets there in time.

\---

After Tommy gets checked over, feels the effect of the potion wash over him, healing and warm, he’s left with a internal screaming of ‘oh my god I’m IN the castle, and the emperor is just talking to me like we’re good ol pals-’

The potion is cool, though, Tommy’s never really had one before, he’s only seen them being used for other kids in certain situations. Tommy’s never been hurt too bad or gotten sick enough to actually need a potion, although he remembers a certain instance when Tubbo had needed one. 

He had simply gotten too high of a fever, just high enough to become worrying, and Tommy had sat by the bed while Tubbo drank from a tiny red glass bottle, coughing with a sore throat every minute. He had doubted it would work then, even with all him and Tubbo have read about potions and brewing, but sure enough, less than an hour later, Tubbo’s temperature dropped significantly, and he was well enough for the caretakers to stop fussing over him and let Tommy be the main worrier instead. 

Tubbo had said it tasted like strawberries, although with Tommy drinking a potion himself, he will say that it’s more of a raspberry, really. 

The cut on his lip had faded away into a small mark, that’s apparently left to heal all the way on it’s own, and his hands no longer sting and ache like they did when he came in. The slight bruises and pains he had gotten from the absolute mess of last night and this morning has gone away, and he feels...pretty okay, actually. Now that he doesn’t have any fatigue or pain to worry about, the awe and panic hits him like a train, which turns to him simply agreeing and nodding his head when Phil suggests dinner. 

Well, he won’t pass down free food, unless it’s out of pity, because then that just makes him feel like shit. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as Phil leads him through the castle again, Tommy sticking to his side in fear of getting lost, because geez, there are too many turns for him to even _think_ about remembering. Although, Phil lives here, so he guesses that Phil is used to it. 

Tommy goes with Phil to a large room with a big, long table, plenty of chairs beside it and a rather ridiculous amount of food on it. 

Now Tommy will wholeheartedly say that the food at the orphanage? Not the best. It’s good, some days, homey, but sometimes the breakfast tastes incredibly plain, and Tommy would rather run with Tubbo to the plaza to get something better. 

Although, in comparison to _this_ , plates and plates of food laid out on the table, all of it looking better than any meal Tommy’s ever eaten before, it’s just ridiculous. 

“ _This_ is dinner?” Tommy asks, sitting down to the left of Phil, who sits at the very end of the table, folding his wings tightly closed behind him. “This is a shit-ton of food!” Tommy swears, and he would worry about being rude, with swearing, but Phil had straight up just repeated him when he did so earlier, so he will speak how he wants until Phil says something. 

“Well, it’s not _just_ for us. Usually when we’re done, it’s all up for grabs for any guards who pass by on their break.” Phil smiles, shurgging. “But I like to eat with my sons first, family dinner, you know?”

Tommy stares at the empty plate in front of him, silverware beside it, and the words process slowly in his head. “Uh, should I even be here, then?”

“You’re a guest.” Phil waves a hand, serving himself as he speaks. Tommy goes to follow. “You can eat with us.” 

Tommy huffs, grinning nervously. “Sure, Phil.” 

A few minutes later, they eat quietly in peace, Tommy chewing on a piece of steak (which tastes fucking amazing-) as he stares at all the other empty chairs beside him, across from him. 

“Where’s Wilbur?” Tommy asks, Phil raising his head. “And...Technoblade.” He continues, nearly forgetting the name. 

“Hm.” Phil smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he glances to the door. “They are a bit late. They were supposed to be finishing up class a while ago.” 

“Weird.” Tommy mutters, looking up to the lights hanging from the ceiling, blinking at how fancy it seems. He feels so out of place and yet welcomed at the same time. It’s jarring. 

They lapse into silence for another minute or two, and the front doors suddenly swing open, Phil raising his head with a hardly surprised look, Tommy turning his head with wide eyes. 

“Boys.” Phil smiles, Tommy flicking his eyes from Phil to Wilbur and Technoblade, back and forth, before taking another bite of his food, because, it really is good- “We have a guest.”

Tommy feels nerves as Phil says that, feeling out of his league again, but he quickly pushes it to the side in favor of being confident, and also because he’s more focused on how Wilbur and Technoblade stare at him as if he’s popped out of a portal from the future or something. 

Technoblade whispers something that Tommy doesn’t hear, and he nearly chokes at hearing Wilbur respond ‘shut the fuck up.’

“So you’re late.” Phil goes on, his fork clinking against his plate, the doors closing behind the twins as they falter at the other side of the dinner table. 

“Phil.” Wilbur says, clasping his hands together, looking nervous. 

“We can explain.” Techno starts.

“Explain what?” Phil asks, glancing at Tommy, giving a smile, and Tommy holds back a laugh, feeling like he’s watching a scolding. It’s funny.

Techno pauses, then starts again. “Wilbur can explain-”

“-oh, shut up-” Wilbur hisses. 

“Tommy, these are my sons, like we talked about earlier. Wilbur, Technoblade.” Phil raises a hand up to both of them, Tommy raising his chin. “Boys, this is Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Wilbur grits out, Techno nodding with narrowed eyes towards Phil, who smiles back without faltering. 

“Hello.” Tommy says, wondering if he should call them ‘your highnesses’, with them being princes and all. “You’re late to dinner.” He says instead, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth. 

Technoblade blinks at him. Wilbur makes a face like he can’t tell if he wants to be slightly offended or laugh. 

“Are you both just going to stand there?” Phil asks, huffing at the way they seem almost skittish, with Tommy at the dinner table. 

“Rude to stare.” Tommy says through a mouthful of food, and Technoblade and Wilbur share glances, before going to sit down. 

They sit across from Tommy, by Phil, side by side. They serve themselves like they’ve done it a hundred times over, and Tommy pokes his food, feeling slightly annoyed at the way they keep sharing glances, looking at Tommy like he’s fell out of the sky, and glancing to Phil like he’s pulling their leg. 

“So.” Tommy starts, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Why were you guys late?”

“Wilbur made us skip class.” Technoblade responds without hesitation, and Wilbur kicks him under the table, Phil snickering. 

“We were busy.” Wilbur tries to remedy, but Tommy just makes a face that could almost be judgemental. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Phil grins, Wilbur and Techno both looking in different directions, away from Phil, who just laughs quietly again. “So busy you didn’t realize there was someone new in the castle?”

“Okay, well, listen, we were off doing stuff, we didn’t expect for you to bring a…” Technoblade trails off. “Child...to the dinner table.”

“I am not a fucking child.” Tommy deadpans, raising his eyes to Wilbur, who just looks back with a thoughtful expression, chewing on his food. 

Then, “Infant.” He says, and Tommy knows full-on that was a jab, with how he grins.

Tommy leans back in his seat, anger simmering in him, and he reaches over to a plate of carrots, throwing one over and letting it land onto Wilbur’s plate, nearly missing. 

“Get some vitamins, _your highness_ , I think your eyes are shit.” He drawls, Wilbur smiling, tilting his head, and Techno looks at Wilbur with a slight shake of his head. Phil just eats his food in peace. 

Wilbur grabs a spoonful of what looks to be mashed potatoes, and flings it at Tommy, having it land just next to his hand, Tommy jerking his arm away from the table. 

He throws another carrot, hitting Wilbur in the arm.

Wilbur sends food right onto his shirt. 

Tommy stands up suddenly from his seat, the chair screeching back, Wilbur leaning forward as if he’s ready for something interesting. Techno just picks up his plate with a slightly worried yet intrigued look, as if he’s saying ‘No. Wait. Definitely don’t do that.’

Phil looks up at Tommy, who narrows his eyes at Wilbur, then looks to Phil with a burning spite in his eyes. “Phil, can I fucking throw something.” He asks.

Phil holds back a laugh, Techno shrugging to himself and moving to go eat underneath the table. 

“Can I. Throw something.” Tommy asks again, simply for the sake of respect, and Wilbur looks so amused, grinning wide. 

“Do it, go, bet you fucking-” Wilbur whispers, Tommy being seven seconds from flipping him off. 

“Sure, mate.” Phil agrees, and Tommy sends his plate flying into Wilbur’s face. 

\---

“Oh, weak throw, weak throw-!” Wilbur yells, ducking as a plate goes flying over him, shattering in the back. 

“Careful with those.” Phil says offhandedly, Techno passing him potatoes underneath the table as Tommy flings another plate. 

“Fuck _you-_ ” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Do we have mushrooms, or did Wilbur already use that for ammo?” Techno asks, Phil humming. 

“Already used it.” Phil responds, looking at Tommy from under the table, noting the mushroom slices stuck to his shirt. 

\---

About half an hour later, a good portion of the food is scattered across the floor, Technoblade is sitting criss-cross beside Wilbur, who’s face down into the ground, and Tommy is chewing on what looks to be a carrot from underneath the table. 

“Have you both made a truce?” Phil asks, stepping over an overturned plate. 

Wilbur just groans into the ground. Technoblade pokes him in the back of the head. 

“You know, I think I won.” Tommy nods, looking at Phil, and Phil laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil, watching a food fight go on right in front of him: This is a good way to let them bond :)
> 
> Tommy can and will throw down. Wilbur likes to spur on funny situations. Good mix, those two, in this fic.
> 
> This was fun to write! Man, that Ranboo-Tubbo scene got so much more longer than I thought it would be haha
> 
> hope it was fun to read? Thanks for reading :D


	9. Bad impulse decisions

“It was more of a tie, really.” Technoblade mutters, leaning an elbow onto his leg, his face resting against his palm. Tommy narrows his eyes at him from under the table, but Techno hardly notices, instead picking a piece of food out of Wilbur hair. 

He makes an annoyed face at his hand getting dirty, then goes to wipe it onto Wilbur’s shirt, ignoring the way Wilbur tries to swipe at him, rolling away. 

Wilbur sits up from the floor, huffing as he tries to wipe the back of his hands against his pants, fully noticing the way stains are set into his clothes.

“I think I’ve got fucking spagetti down the back of my shirt.” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair and making a face at the bits of food in it, sticking to the strands. Techno snorts at his expression.

“Oh, gross. Don’t touch me.” Techno quips, and Wilbur immediately snaps his head up too quick, a gleam in his eye. Techno scoots away from him. 

Although Wilbur doesn’t do much, he just holds a palm out and leans dangerously close, and Techno nearly falls back from how he tries to get away. “Don’t _touch-_ I swear, if you get that on my shirt-” 

Wilbur laughs. 

Phil watches the two of them bickering on the ground and he smiles with a warm fondness in his chest. Oh, he’s still pissed over them just skipping class. But still, small moments. 

He shakes his head, turning his head over to Tommy, who had been staring at Phil, and turns his head away with a jolt when Phil gives his attention to him. 

Walking over to the table, he kneels down in front of where Tommy’s sitting under it, Tommy tucking his legs with him in fear that he’ll somehow trip Phil. 

Phil looks under the table to find Tommy with wide eyes, _almost_ guilty, but more challenging than anything, a small furrow in his eyebrows where as if he’s expecting for Phil to call him out. 

Phil huffs with a smile, holding a hand against the table to keep his balance. 

“Not exactly how I expected dinner to go…” He trails off, tilting his head to the mess around them. Tommy just puts the carrot in his hands to the side, shrugging. 

“I said I could beat them in a fight.” 

“A food fight.”

“Same thing.”

Phil snickers, Tommy giving a hesitant laugh along. “You did say that.” Tommy nods, confident. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, and we can go talk?”

Tommy blinks, his confidence seeming to drain from his expression and his shoulders as he processes Phil’s words. 

“Talk?” Tommy repeats.

“About your aunt, home. I know you said you have a curfew, but she must be worried sick by now, if you haven’t been home since morning. I know I would be.” There’s a bitter taste when Phil has to ask about his aunt, and there’s a small part of him that wonders if he could possibly bargain for custody, even with the strange rumors that would definitely swirl around. 

A small, selfish part of him hopes that Tommy was nervous because he lied, and he doesn’t have an aunt at all. Phil tells himself to be mature. 

He can battle for custody later. 

Tommy struggles to keep his face neutral as he tries to scrape together a plan for his non-existent aunt, and for his non-existent home. Well, he does have a home, but he’s not sure how he can admit that ‘home’ is a giant building with a bunch of other orphans. 

Phil doesn’t seem to notice his panic, and instead turns his head over to Wilbur and Techno, who freeze at realizing Phil’s gaze has been turned onto them. 

“As for you two.” Phil deadpans, Wilbur looking at the floor under him like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Ah-” Technoblade holds a finger up, about to scrape together a defence, even if he’s not as good at that as Wilbur is. 

“You’re both grounded.” Phil says, cutting him off before he starts. 

“Dangit.” Techno mumbles, Wilbur frowning intensely. 

“But-” Wilbur starts, mouth opening, only to click shut at Phil’s narrowed eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Nope.” Phil simply says, and he rises to his feet, Wilbur huffing. “Wilbur, go clean up. Techno.”

“I’ll go start on classes.” Techno waves a hand, getting up from the ground as Wilbur makes a dramatic groan of pain. “Wilbur, stop dying.”

“No.” Wilbur responds, making a sour face. Techno kicks him in the side. 

\---

Tommy panics internally the entire time him and Phil walk down the halls. 

He apologizes awkwardly for ruining the new shirt that he had just gotten not that long ago, and Phil reassures him with a wave of his hand and saying something about how they have plenty. 

Right, royalty. Rich as hell. Probably have a fuckton of shirts. 

The shirt isn’t really his main problem, his main problem is the fact he does not have an _aunt_. He doesn’t have any sort of family, really, unless you count Tubbo, but Tommy doesn’t really think he could pass Tubbo off as his aunt. He’s too short, and...Tubbo-ish.

Niki could work, maybe, but that would be an awkward conversation, ‘hey so, I lied to the emperor, yeah don’t panic, pretend to be family and I’ll pay you’.

That’s if Tommy even gets to Niki before Phil. No doubt they’ll open the door asking for Tommy’s aunt, and Niki will just straight up say ‘I’m not his aunt?’ and blow up his entire fragile plan to not get pitied. 

Maybe he can just come clean. Even with the pity that’s bound to come, maybe if Tommy delivers it correctly, he won’t become a charity case, and he won’t have to make the Emperor’s mood go down. 

Although, as he looks at Phil, who gives a bright smile back, he does not have enough courage to admit that he’s lied to the Emperor, so he instead just continues to panic, even as he’s pushed into a room with a clean set of clothes. 

There’s a fancy couch and table in the middle of the room, with bookcases to the side, shelves on the walls. A window across the door shows the white snow outside, falling lightly from the sky. 

“I’ll be outside, okay? Just call when you’re changed.” Phil says, closing the door quietly behind him, and Tommy’s left in a room with nothing but a set of new clothes, many regrets, and a half baked plan forming in his head. 

He tugs the shirt over his head as his mind races, and his thought process jumps from trying to make a good defence, to maybe using Niki again, to Tubbo, to ‘oh god wait how long have I been away-’ to panicking again, but this time with a little more Flavor. 

He’s stupidly late for meeting up with Tubbo. His reason for why is ridiculous, and he doubts Tubbo will even believe him, because to be honest, he doesn’t entirely believe it himself. 

But Phil wants to talk about his non-existent aunt, and Tommy doesn’t have a plan, and he really needs to get back to town with Tubbo or else he is going to _die_. 

From missing Tubbo or from getting murdered by him, who knows, but Tommy raises his head to the window across the room, vaguely considering pros and cons.

But he wouldn’t go out the window, surely. It’s freezing, the temperature is colder up at the castle, he probably doesn’t even have a way to get back to town without getting seen, and it’s just a terrible plan all around- oh wait, he went out the window. 

Really, the entire day is made up of his impulse desicions, aren’t they?

A few minutes later, Phil comes knocking at the door, asking if Tommy’s ready. When he doesn’t get an answer, he knocks again. Then he goes in with a warning that he’s coming in, and he takes one step into the room, sees the wide open window with the cold wind blowing through, some snow having fallen in, and he turns right back around, yelling for guards and sending the whole castle into a lockdown. 

\---

Technoblade looks through the bookshelves of their library, skimming over the titles and trying to figure out where he had left off. The library isn’t too big, so it shouldn’t be hard to find the book he’s looking for.

If he was in the actual royal library, he would be searching for hours, would be walking for hours. But here, it’s a smaller place specifically for him and Wilbur to study, still plenty of bookshelves, two tables to the side for them to use, but not as overwhelming. 

He picks out a book, opening it up and skimming over the words in a random page, making a face. He’d much rather go figure out what’s the deal with the new kid in the castle, rather than study, but he would do anything to avoid Phil’s disappointed stare. 

The front doors opens with a quiet creak, and Techno doesn’t look up, expecting it to be Wilbur. Instead, he hears the voice of a guard.

“Your highness?” 

Technoblade looks down the aisle of books, seeing one of the familiar hall guards stand at the end, giving a friendly smile. They don’t look panicked, so Techno doesn’t assume the worst. 

“The castle has gone on lockdown.” They inform, and Technoblade blinks. “Do you want to go to your room, or are you alright staying here?”

“Is Wilbur stuck in his room?” Techno asks, instead of answering, and they nod. “Heh.” He’s probably annoyed, having gone to go wash out the food in his hair, then having to be stuck in his room with guards in front of his door. 

“Should we move you over there?” They ask, pointing a finger over to the door, and Techno shakes his head, looking back down to the book in his hands. 

“Nah, I’ll stay here. Why’s the castle on lockdown?” He flips a page. Maybe he can get even more ahead of Wilbur for the time being. 

“The emperor’s guest has seemed to have escaped out of a window, and now we’re not sure where he’s gone.” 

Techno raises his eyebrows at hearing that, really wishing he could go see what that is about, go ask Phil, but he’s stuck in this room for now, so he instead just nods. “Alright. You can go.” 

Footsteps sound out, and the doors close, Techno knowing there’s two people standing guard in front of it. 

Grabbing a few more books off the shelf, Techno goes to sit down at the table, putting the pile of books down, opening one up. He might as well pass time, pass Wilbur in their studies, for the heck of it. 

There’s a small click, a familiar one that Techno knows, because that’s the click of the latch of the nearby window that him and Wilbur use to run out on lessons every single time. He raises his head, closing the book in front of him and picking it up, quietly getting up from his seat. 

Moving silently through the bookshelves, he makes his way over to the window, and he’s not surprised to see Tommy quite literally tumble in, covered in snow, and shivering like hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chap for today, it's 1 am and it's my birthday!!! So you know, hope you liked reading. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :D


	10. Could be a home, maybe

Technoblade just blinks, at first, holding the book up in the air as he silently watches Tommy tumble in from outside.

He’s covered in snow and shivering from head to toe, mumbling swears under his breath as he pushes himself to his feet and pushes the window closed, breathing heavily. 

Techno blinks again. Tommy stills, staring at the window. He slowly turns his head to Techno, and Technoblade can see the bits of snow still stuck in his hair, flakes of white melting in the warmth of the room. They stare at each other for a moment, and Techno internally wishes Wilbur was here instead of stuck in his room right now. 

“You.” Tommy says, pointing a finger right at Technoblade, narrowing his eyes. Techno blinks for a third time, squeezing the book in his hands. 

He chucks the book at Tommy.

Tommy ducks, just barely dodging getting hit in the face, the book sailing over his head and hitting the floor with a thump. Tommy glances behind him at the book on the ground, then turns to Techno with an incredulous look, wrapping his arms around himself to try and warm up. “What the fuck?! What was that for?”

Techno frowns, crossing his arms. “You’re the reason the whole castle is on lockdown.” He says simply, and Tommy doesn’t quite process the sentence at first, eyes wandering to the books around them, then the words sink in, and his eyes go wide. 

“The castle is _what_?”

Techno really wishes Wilbur was here right now. He’s got a vague idea of who this kid is, sure, and he’ll admit that he’s definitely got fight in him, which he’ll respect, but he does not want to start a conversation with the person who apparently thought climbing out the window and sending the whole castle into a lockdown was a good idea. 

Even if he is Phil’s guest.

Tommy’s eyes are full of slight panic, like he didn’t consider the fact that his escape would have such an impact, and Techno is torn between laughing or yelling for the guards. 

There’s quiet whispers in his head noting how cold Tommy looks, how he’s curled in on himself, and Techno ignores it, even though they do have a point on how Tommy looks slightly pathetic. 

Techno shrugs, then turns around, walking down the aisle of books next to him. “You went missing, Phil called a lockdown-”

“He fucking-” Tommy huffs out a laugh, hitting a hand to his forehead. “Holy shit- Wait, wait, where are you going-” Tommy stumbles, running after Techno. 

“To the hallway.” Techno answers, walking faster. He doesn’t get to take another step as hands grab at his arm, stopping in his tracks. He turns to Tommy, who shakes his head vigorously. 

“No, no, no-” Tommy pulls again, and Techno actually stumbles back a step, not expecting to get yanked again. “Aren’t there going to be guards outside?”

“There’s guards in front of the door.” Techno slowly nods. “And I’m pretty sure I should go-”

“Nope, no, no-” Tommy heaves, leaning back with all his weight to pull Techno his direction, and Techno just leans forwards slightly in his efforts. “-we’re not doing that-”

“ _We’re_ not doing anything-” Techno says, trying to get his arm back, but Tommy’s latched onto it with a death grip, and the teen stumbles with Techno trying to pull away. “ _I_ _’m_ going to go inform the guards that you’re not out running around outside-”

“Nooo, you’re not-” Tommy stresses, Techno spinning around and making Tommy lose his grip, falling to the floor. He hops back onto his feet within seconds, and before Techno can even take a step forward, he’s trying to push Technoblade back now. “-bitch, get back, go that way, that way.”

“Are you seriously trying to push me-” 

“You can’t go to the hallway, hallway is off-limits-”

“Stop _pushing_ me-”

“Other way, that way-”

“I’m not going that way!”

“Well now you are!” Tommy insists, his feet skidding for a second as he tries to push Techno the other direction. After a second, he gives up on getting Techno to move, and instead just stands in the way, arms stretched out to the bookshelves on either side of him.

Tommy points a finger over Techno’s shoulder, trying to block as much of his path as possible. “That way or else.” He says, and it’s not very intimidating when he’s still slightly shivering from the cold, teeth chattering. 

Techno leans back on his heels for a moment, looking at Tommy with an almost judgemental look. “Or else what?” He asks, choosing to humor him. 

“I’ve got a weapon.” Tommy raises his chin, shoulders set. 

Technoblade just blinks. “ _Really_.” He says slowly, purposely dragging out the word.

“What is that _tone-_ are you making fun of me-”

“ _No_ , of _course_ not-” Techno waves a hand. He debates just walking right through Tommy to the hallway anyway, but he’s not sure if he wants to deal with the possibility of Tommy clinging onto his leg to try and stop him. 

“Yes you are, motherfucker-” Tommy narrows his eyes, making a face. 

“Look,” Techno raises his palms up to Tommy. “I just seriously doubt you have an actual weapon and I also seriously doubt you can even use it.” Also, using a weapon against him would hardly end well. One, because Technoblade could easily win a fight, and two, he’s the literal prince. No one can attack him without probably getting arrested for it right after Techno is done with them. 

Tommy sniffs, turning his head to the side in slight offense. “My weapon is my words, bitch.” 

“That sounds like something Wilbur would say.” Techno mutters. Wilbur probably has said that before. His words are weapons, quiet and deadly, something something, meaning and waxing poems, Techno doesn’t really remember.

“I don't feel very threatened.” Techno says, Tommy going into a stance, like he’s bracing for Techno to just kick him out of the way.

“Well, you should.” 

“Hm.” Techno presses his lips together tightly, huffing through his nose. Part of him wants to go get the guards still, and if he really wanted to, he could just yell and they would come a second later. 

But then again. He kinda wants to know more about Phil’s guest. 

Ugh, Wilbur’s better at questions than he is. 

“Alright, I’ll make a deal.” Techno offers, Tommy staring at him before nodding. 

“Okay, deal, what’s the deal?”

“I won’t call for the guards, or go out into the hallway, but you got to give me answers on what I ask.” Techno says, eyes glancing past Tommy, internally wondering if this is a smart choice. Phil’s probably stressed, trying to look for a kid who went out the literal _window_. 

But he really wants to know more.

“You want to interrogate me.” Tommy frowns, Techno humming. 

“Sure.” Techno doesn’t bother denying it. Yeah, that’s more or less what he’ll settle for. 

Tommy’s frown deepens, and he tilts his head like he’s trying to hear something. But he’s considering it in his head, along with his choices here, which, honestly, aren’t that many. He could go back out the window, but it was fucking _freezing_ , and he really doesn’t want to go back out there. 

But he also really would rather not get caught, nor get asked a bunch of questions from the prince- and ohhh wait, Tommy just remembered, he’s standing in front of a prince. Is he going to get arrested for threatening him?

Techno’s still waiting on an answer for their deal, and without thinking, Tommy holds out his hand, pinky out-stretched. “Alright, fine, but you have to pinky-promise.”

Techno blinks, his face shifting into slight shock and exasperation. 

Holding back hesitation, Tommy curses his habits he’s picked up from Tubbo. Pinky-promises are just a thing they do, and he probably shouldn’t be using it with the literal prince, but it’s too late to back out now, so he just holds his hand out insistently, face determined. 

He then remembers the fact he needs to get back to Tubbo, and he then promptly shoves down the slight panic (lots of panic) he gets from that thought. 

Techno sees Tommy’s face go from unhappy to something of dread, and he sighs heavily, begrudgingly locking pinkies for just a second. “Yeah, fine.” 

He and Wilbur have done that sometimes, when they were younger. Sometimes they still do.

Tommy looks surprised at Techno’s willingness, but he quickly gets over it, nodding and crossing his arms. “Alright, ask away.”

“Who are you?” Techno asks. 

“Someone very cool, thank you very much-”  
  


“Name.” Techno specifies. 

Tommy sighs. “Tommy.” He says, with as little enthusiasm as he can muster, sounding dead. 

Techno gives him a face. “That’s it? No last name? Thomas, something?”

“It’s not Thomas-” Tommy scrunches his nose, like he’s thinking over something, before pushing it aside, shaking his head. “Tommy. Just Tommy.”

“What’s your last name?”

Tommy just shrugs. “I dunno. What’s _your_ name?” 

“Technoblade Watson.” Techno answers without a hint of hesitation. He’s a bit suspicious of Tommy not having a last name, but then again, maybe he’s without family. “Why are you here?”

“Saved Phil from some guy trying to stab him.” 

“I knew that.” 

“Then why’d you _ask-_ ”

“There’s got to be another reason why you’re here.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes. “That’s what Phil said I’m here for. Because I was ‘brave’ or something.” He sighs. “It’s been a fucking eventful day.” He mutters, more quietly. 

Techno hums, turning Tommy’s words over in his head. Phil’s had assassination attempts on him before, that’s true. And there've been a handful of people who've saved him, brave people. But Phil didn’t invite those people to _family dinner_.

Techno’s pretty sure he already knows what’s going on, he wants to run it through Wilbur first, but right now, Tommy’s looking at the floor with an almost unhappy look. Techno’s head grows louder, not in a bad way, but he’s not sure if he should be concerned or not about what his chat is yelling.

He holds back a sigh. “Fine. Tell me about it.”

“What.”

“From the beginning. Tell me about your day.” 

\---

Phil feels the cold air bite at his skin as he flies up through the air, scanning the snow around the castle. The wind today is unforgiving, freezing and sharp, and Phil frowns when he doesn’t see anything except his guards searching the area. 

Tommy can’t have gone too far. The front gates were shut the moment Phil called for a lockdown, and all the guards are on alert. The castle is secure, and it’s really just a matter of someone spotting the kid in the snow. 

Phil sees nothing as he flies over a third time, and he sighs, circling around and landing onto the ground, guards running up to meet him as soon as his boots hit the snow. 

“Find anything?” He asks, pushing hair out of his face. 

“Nothing, your Grace.” He gets for an answer, and he resists the urge to sigh again. “With the snow starting up again, we don’t see any footprints…”

Phil hums, looking up to the snow that falls from the sky, cold and familiar. Why would Tommy just leave? He can’t have disappeared just like that, unless he had another way of getting out, but Phil was sure Tommy didn’t have any abilities of any sort. 

Or did he? Phil can’t be sure. He wants to ask, but Tommy needs to be found first. It could be a possibility that Tommy went back into the castle, and is hiding somewhere there, but Phil’s already sent guards to go search inside. 

This _has_ been a long day for the kid. Now that Phil thinks about it, maybe this was all too much, and he just panicked and ran. Out the window, for some reason, but he ran either way. 

And as much as Phil wants to try sitting down with Tommy in front of a fireplace, with warm drinks, maybe, so he could talk and get to know him better, Tommy might just be overwhelmed. It makes sense. Sometimes, Phil forgets that he’s regarded with such respect, and he forgets that making simple conversation with the townspeople can be nerve wracking to them.

They’ll always see him as the emperor, although after a few conversations, they’ll eventually just know him as Phil. And that’s all Phil wants for Tommy as well. 

He ignores the slight tug in his heart, a quiet selfish part of him insistent on giving Tommy a place to sleep, just for tonight. He could press for details on why Tommy was able to get into so much trouble. He could make it so it never happens again, he could give Tommy a better place to stay. 

But he chooses not to, and instead he tells himself that the second Tommy is found, he can be sent back home, away from the castle. There’s probably family who are worried for him, waiting for him to get back. 

As much as Tommy is endearing and awfully chaotic like his other two boys, he’s not family. 

And Phil’s not his family. 

Maybe he can visit Tommy a few days from now. Then, Phil can try getting to know him better, and at the very least, he can keep an eye on him. 

Satisfied with that decision, he nods to his guards. “Keep looking. It’s too cold for him to stay out here.”

They continue to search, and Phil stretches out his wings, flying up into the air once more. 

\---

“Your highness!” 

Wilbur nearly trips on the next turn, laughing under his breath as he continues to run, hearing the sound of multiple people following. 

“Your highness, wait-!” He heard someone call again, and he just grins, running down the hall to where two other guards are standing in front of the library, turning their heads to Wilbur with a surprised look, but also something resigned. 

He slows down, panting for a second as his shoes skid across the floor for a second as he comes to a stop. “Is, is Techno in there?” He asks, pointing a finger to the door, the other guards still trying to catch up to him down the hall. 

Wilbur feels slightly sorry for making them run after him, after he dashed out of his room without a single warning. Now that he thinks about it, he probably could’ve asked to be escorted over to Techno, rather than just making an impulse decision and running for it. 

Eh, too late now. 

One of the guards nod to Wilbur’s question, stepping to the side as Wilbur reaches for the handle, pulling the door open and heading inside, but not before giving an apologetic smile to the guards who had been placed at his room door, now just watching him go in with a resigned exasperation. 

“Thank you!” He chimes, and he closes the door behind him, sighing.

He leans his back into the door for a moment, looking into the library to see Technoblade, who’s leaning against the bookshelves with an overly suspicious smile. 

“Heyyy.” Techno greets, Wilbur blinking, raising his eyebrows at how awkwardly Techno is placed. Thankfully, the weird attempt at making a casual smile goes away, dropping into confusion as Techno asks “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

“I got bored and sprinted down the halls.” Wilbur shrugs, pushing himself off the door and walking over to Technoblade. “They’re taking forever to find that kid.”

“Oh, yeah.” Techno looks to the floor, rather than at Wilbur, crossing his arms. “Phil’s still searching around outside.”

“It’s been like twenty minutes already since he jumped out the window, where would he even _go_?” Wilbur asks, and Techno raises his head to look at him, and Wilbur notices something shift from behind Techno.

“He’s still running around, probably. Maybe passed out in the snow.” Techno shrugs, nonchalant. “Got buried in it, maybe.”

“Hm.” Wilbur stops in front of Techno, mirroring him in the way that he crosses his arms. “Technoblade.”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s behind you?”

Techno pauses, not answering for a moment, and instead looking at the floor with wide eyes, scratching at the side of his chin. “Uh-”

“Technoblade-”

“I cannot confirm...nor deny-”

“You’re fucking kidding me-”

“-that there is a person behind me-”

Wilbur drops his face into his hands, smothering his laugh.

“Who may or may not be the exact person that caused the lockdown in the first place-” Techno jolts, getting kicked in the back of the leg. “Do not _kick_ me-”

“Okay, okay, move.” Wilbur waves a hand, pushing Techno to the side, revealing Tommy, who’s pressed into the bookshelf like he’s trying to merge with the pages. “You!”

“What do you want.” Tommy grits out, frowning intensely. 

“Why are you here?!” Wilbur asks, turning to Techno. “Wait, when did he get here?”

“Like, fifteen minutes ago? Ten?” Techno makes a so-so hand gesture. “I don’t know, he came through the window.” 

“Through the one we use?” Wilbur points a finger to his chest, thinking about the multiple times they’ve ‘snuck’ out using said window. At this point, the thing should just be another entrance. Wilbur slightly wonders why Phil hasn’t fixed it, even after all the times they just ditch class. 

“You forgot to lock it.” Techno shrugs, Wilbur huffing. 

“ _You_ forgot to lock it.” 

“No, I would’ve remembered, I’m pretty sure-”

“It was your turn!” 

“I did it the time before!” 

“No, you-” Wilbur stops the beginning argument right there, waving his hands. “Okay, okay, whatever. That still doesn’t explain why you haven’t told Phil that the fucking child he’s looking for is right here.” He holds his hands out to Tommy, who scoffs. 

“I can _hear_ you-”

“I…can’t talk to the guards. Or go into the hallway.” Techno ignores Tommy, who crosses his arms with a glare. 

“What?” Wilbur questions, Tommy explaining it for him. 

“He pinky-promised.” Tommy nods, holding his finger up like he’s telling a fact, and Wilbur chokes on a laugh. 

“You _what_?!” Wilbur snorts.

Techno closes his eyes, like it’ll let him leave the room if he just wishes hard enough. “I had questions, and so in exchange for answering them, I can’t sell him out.” 

Wilbur laughs again. 

Tommy seems to be happy with the turn of events, and he raises a finger to Wilbur, jabbing him in the arm. “Yeah, and you can’t sell me out either, or else I’ll die.”

“You know the entire castle is on lockdown, with the guards trying to find you, right?” Wilbur asks, batting Tommy’s hand away. 

“Which is why I’m hiding in here!” Tommy insists, taking a step to stand behind Techno again. “They’re not going to look in the place with the two _princes._ ”

“Huh.” Techno looks slightly surprised. “That’s actually kinda smart.”

“You’re saying that like I’m fucking dumb-”

“Okay, okay, but why do you need to hide?” Wilbur asks, resting a hand on his hip as Tommy peeks out from behind Techno. “You know Phil is just trying to find you.”

“If I get found I’m going to get fucking arrested, _your highness._ ” Tommy supplies, saying the last two words with as much sarcasm he can muster. Wilbur feels like he’s never going to actually say that title seriously.

“You’re not going to get arrested.” Techno deadpans. 

“Probably.” Wilbur adds on, shrugging, barely holding back a grin.

“Probably.”

Tommy narrows his eyes. “That’s not helping!”

“Look, I’m sure Phil won’t be mad, he’s just concerned about the fact that you threw yourself out a window into the freezing cold.” Wilbur says, Tommy making a face. 

“Do you just escape your problems through jumping out the nearest window?” Technoblade asks, remembering the vague summary Tommy had given about earlier when he woke up this morning. 

“It was only twice today, don’t give me that look.” Tommy mutters. 

“Wait, what?” Wilbur asks.

“I’ll tell you later.” Techno waves a hand. “And, uh, while you’re here, can you call for Phil-”

“No, don’t do that-” 

Wilbur takes a step back, and they all go into silence, Tommy going dead still from behind Techno, Techno wondering if the answers he got from Tommy today was really worth those fifteen minutes. 

“HE’S IN HERE-” Wilbur screams, running for the door.

“Oh, you _motherfucker-_ ” Tommy runs after him, Techno just watching as the two of them fall out into the hallway, Tommy tacking into Wilbur’s side. 

Needless to say, the guards are more than a little surprised.   
  


\---

“So.” Phil starts, clasping his hands together. “I’m hoping there’s a good reason as to why you just...climbed out a window.” 

Tommy keeps his eyes firmly placed on the floor, ignoring the slight guilt that runs down his spine. 

After Tommy had been found (on the ground, trying to strangle Wilbur apparently, who just seemed a mix between laughing and screaming) the lockdown and search was called off immediately, Phil showing up within minutes. 

He came down the hallway with a rush, his mind racing with more than a few terrible scenarios, all of which died promptly the second he was presented with the image of Wilbur and Tommy trying to kill each other on the hallway floor, and Techno watching from the doorway while yelling for them to go for the eyes. 

The last thing he should’ve done was laugh at the sight, but he couldn’t help it, half because it was ridiculous how Tommy, in all the places he could have been, had been hiding with Wilbur and Techno, half because the image of them bickering was just...something to smile at. 

As much as he would’ve liked to have a moment to hang around with all three of them, Phil still needed to send Tommy home, so he got the two of them to get off the floor, and for Tommy to follow him down the hall to somewhere where they could talk in peace. 

Although, as Phil went, he could see Techno leaning into Wilbur, holding a hand over his mouth as he spoke into his ear, pointing at Tommy’s back, the two of them smiling at Phil like they knew something he didn’t.

They probably did, knowing them. 

And now here they were, a few minutes later, sitting in a quiet room with a fireplace beside them, and a blanket over Tommy’s shoulders, because even if he insisted, Phil’s sure he had to still be a bit cold from just going outside without even a proper sweater. 

Tommy’s unusually quiet, though, and he doesn’t meet Phil’s eyes, fingers pulling at the edges of the blanket in his hands. 

“Come on, mate.” Phil smiles, sitting across from Tommy. “It’s fine if you got overwhelmed or something, just give me a warning next time.” He laughs a little, and Tommy just seems to sink into his seat. 

“It’s not that, I just-” Tommy stops, then shrugs, not finishing his sentence. 

Phil frowns, and he forces it into something kinder, holding back a sigh. “Look. It’s probably been a long day for you, from what I’ve seen, and I’d bet you’re tired.” 

Tommy glances up at him, blinking. 

“Your aunt must be worried sick about where you are,” I know I would be, he doesn’t say, but he thinks it either way. “-and you’re far from home, so I think it’s about time you go back, yeah?”

“My aunt-” Tommy starts, stammering. “Well, it has been a really busy day, but in my defense, Tubbo is 90% percent of my impulse control, and this is like the first time I’ve gone without him for so long.” 

“Tubbo?” Phil repeats, Tommy nodding. 

“He’s my best friend.” Tommy smiles, and he hesitates before speaking again, mouth opening and closing. 

Phil smiles back at him, content with the thought of Tommy having someone he’s so close to back at home. He’s also just amused with the idea that without Tubbo, apparently, Tommy just naturally falls into chaos. Reminds him of Techno and Wilbur in a way. Together, those two can be the smartest in the room and the most chaotic, but apart, their thought process seems to lose a whole lot of common sense. 

“I’m sure he’ll be glad when you get back.” Phil says, ignoring the smallest pang of regret as he says that. 

“Yeah, and also pissed. I just took off without a word, technically. We’ve been together ever since we both got dropped off at the orphanage as babies.” 

Phil freezes. 

Tommy keeps going, tripping over his words a bit, but still getting them out. “And, and last night, it was the first night he was going to spend with his new room, because he just got adopted not that long ago, and I had to go back to the orphanage to sleep there, so it was the first time we weren’t sharing a room, too.” 

“He was supposed to come meet me in the morning, or I was, I was going to run over to his place, but then I got sidetracked last night, and ended up waking up in a whole different town, where you know, the thing happened, where you nearly got stabbed-”

Phil can only blink, trying to say something and having nothing.

“And then I got into just a few fights and- yeah, now I’m here instead.” Tommy’s mouth clicks shut, his face slightly red. “He’s going to be pissed that I went off to meet the _emperor_ instead of him.” Tommy laughs lightly, an awkward smile on his face. 

Phil stares, eyes wide in shock as he processes Tommy’s rambling, Tommy seeming to wilt more and more by the second, like he’s waiting for Phil to explode. 

“You-” Phil stops, Tommy curling his hands into fists in the blanket that’s over his shoulders. “You don’t have an aunt.” Phil finally grasps onto the realization, Tommy grimacing. 

“...no.” 

“Oh.” Phil processes his words a little more, and, okay, he should not be having that feeling of hope rise in his chest at the news of Tommy not having an actual family, but- “ _Oh_ , you-”

“Sorry for, uh, lying.” Tommy shrugs, and Phil nods quickly, barely holding back a smile. 

“No, no, that’s fine.” Phil reassures, laughing a little. “That’s- perfectly fine, mate.” 

Tommy nods slowly, kicking his legs slightly from where they hang just over the floor. Phil doesn’t seem all that bothered that he’s lied about some non-existent aunt, and he doesn’t seem to be wondering why Tommy lied in the first place, instead he just gives Tommy a fond look, his wings shifting from behind him. 

“Do you want to stay here, for the night?” Phil asks. 

Tommy chokes, coughing. “W-what?!”

“No, you see, I was worried about any family not knowing where you were, since you weren’t home, but if it’s only your best friend, who’s alright with his own family, then I’d rather you rest here, for the night, instead of starting on the long trip back down to town, you know?”

“I- But-” Tommy sputters, the blanket falling off his shoulders as he leans forward. “I couldn’t actually stay _here_?”

“I could have a room set up easily.” Phil shrugs, grinning. “Believe me, we have plenty of space.” 

Tommy loses his breath in one fell swoop, his nerves from earlier being completely overpowered now from the pure shock and disbelief. 

Stay here, for the night.

_Here_?! In the castle, invited by the literal emperor?!

“But-” Tommy hits a hand to his forehead. “Tubbo, though, he’s probably worried sick, I don’t, I don’t know if I should…”

“Oh, that is true.” Phil hums. “How about he comes over tomorrow, up here?”

Tommy blinks. “To the castle?!”

“Yeah, mate.” Phil nods, grinning at how Tommy looks like he’s about to cough from choking on the air again. “What was his name? Tubbo?”

Tommy nods. 

“Where’s your town? Actually, I have a map, you could point it out, that’d be easier, I could send a letter…”

\---

“Uh, Niki?!” Ranboo’s voice comes from downstairs, Niki finishing where she had been tying her hair in a bun, looking at the mirror in the bathroom as she did to make sure she didn’t miss a strand of hair.

“Hold on!” Niki yells back, pulling at the band keeping her hair up. Ranboo and Tubbo were done baking for the day, and the ovens were off, so she’s fairly sure that it’s not a fire he’s calling her for, rather they must’ve messed up frosting the cakes terribly. 

They’ve been busy baking for the rest of the day, trying to get Tubbo’s mind off the fact Tommy wasn’t around. It worked, for the most part, because it’s hard to keep worrying when you’re screaming along in the kitchen, trying to save a batch of cupcakes from looking terrible. 

“I think you should probably hurry, actually!” Ranboo yells back, Niki looking away from the mirror with a confused face. 

They didn’t go turning the ovens back on, did they?

“Niki, there’s a royal guard at the door!” She hears Tubbo yell this time, and she runs out of the bathroom, her hair staying neat, thankfully. 

Quickly making her way down the stairs, she finds Tubbo behind the front counter, Ranboo at the front door, where a man with light armor stands, the empire’s symbol in his iron chestplate. 

“I’m Eret, by the way.” He says, as Niki hops over the counter, not bothering to go around. 

“I’m, uh, Ranboo.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Hello!” Niki greets, Ranboo going to stand behind her as she finally makes her way to the door. It’s partially dark outside, sundown having more or less already passed, and the plaza from behind Eret being mostly empty by now, just a few people walking around to the shops that are still open. “What can I do for you?”

“Does someone named ‘Tubbo’ live here?” Eret asks, holding up a letter that looks rather fancy. 

“That’s me!” Tubbo raises his hand up, heads turning to him, and he climbs over the counter, struggling for a moment, before getting over and making his way to the door, standing by Niki, who rests a hand onto his shoulder. “Is this about Tommy?”

“You know Tommy?” Eret questions, looking slightly surprised. 

“...yes?” Tubbo makes a face, frowning just a bit. “What, what happened?”

“Here.” Eret holds out the letter, Tubbo taking it, eyes going wide at the symbol at the front of it. 

“Woah, wait, that’s-” Ranboo says, leaning over Tubbo’s head to look at it. 

“You and your family have been invited to come up to the castle tomorrow. Time and details should be in there.” 

“To the-” Niki stammers, eyes wide. “Wait, the castle?”

“Yup.” Eret shrugs, grinning. “The Emperor would like to invite you over, after Tommy asked for Tubbo over there.” 

Niki’s jaw drops, Ranboo sputtering. 

The crinkle of paper sounds out, and Eret feels stuck in place as Tubbo stares at him, eyes burning, and they can’t tell if Tubbo looks delighted, shocked, or pissed. 

“He _what._ ” Tubbo slowly says, almost crushing the letter in his grip. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo rn: wha- you fucker- you MotherFucker- you- I Will Rain HELLFIRE UPON YOU- (Internally: OH GOOD HE'S ALIVE)
> 
> hope you liked this chap :D Sorry I took a while to upload, school hit me in the face, but now I'm caught up, doing great mentally, and I'm also not burning myself out (I'm actually getting sleep, pog!)
> 
> thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> In this house we have Wilbur-Techno twin supremacy
> 
> Heyo, thanks for readin, leave a kudos, mayhaps, comment, hopefully, and if you don't wanna, that's totally chill, hope you're drinking water and taking care of yourself (You better be or else I'm gonna mug you)
> 
> I'm tired! If you see a typo no you didn't! I don't proof read these! The words are now YOUR problem! Have a good day!
> 
> (If you got fanart or something, you can @ me with the username "sircantus" on either insta, twitter, or tumblr. I would love to see it)


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